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covetyou · 2 months

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no shortage of sordid

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader, Joel Miller x m!OC (unnamed) rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: very dubious consent (not from reader), oral sex (m receiving from m), voyeurism/exhibitionism, degradation, brief mention of food and allusion to hunger, unnamed m!OC, m/m, Joel is not exactly gay he's just a domineering asshole, drug reference word count: 3.1k summary: Your deal with Joel has changed into something else, something different to when you first came to his door asking for help months ago. But, when you try to take him up on your new arrangement, you're met with something you never expected.

A/N: this was originally a much shorter deleted scene from the start of the dark caress of someone else. I took it out because it was too much and after writing that chapter I told myself I would avoid writing threesomes for as long as possible, because god damn it there's too many body parts. well, me, fuck you, this is threesome adjacent and not technically a threesome at all.

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Six days. That's how long it takes for you to cave and admit you want him. It takes you another two to do anything about it.

The first time you make the trip to Joel's apartment, no pills necessary, you're faced with silence and a door that won't open.

With an hour break between your jobs the next day, you make another attempt. But, you barely make it through the market when you see him trailing behind Tess, hulking figure parting the crowd with ease. You don't stop to see where they're going, instead choosing to turn on your heel and head back the way you came. The less you know, the better. Using the cards he handed back to you nine days ago, you stop by a street food vendor on your way to your next job, eating your first hot meal not only of that day, but that week, the warm food soothing more than just the emptiness in your stomach.

It takes you much longer to convince yourself to try on the third day. Your thoughts hadn't immediately gone to Joel Miller that morning. You had toyed with going for a walk, with seeing if you could pick up more work. But soon your hands ache, bones creaking in their joints as you clench them once again, trying to stave off the want in your belly with the pinch of nails digging into your palms.

Fuck it. You're going. Whether he's there or not, the need to get out of this apartment far outweighs the desire to stay warm inside it.

So, one gray trudge across a gray Boston to a gray apartment block later, you're at his door. Again.

Only this time there's not silence on the other side.

You can hear a murmur - undoubtedly Joel by the heavy rasp of a wry laugh that follows it - and a garbled whimper.

And, of course, you could leave. You could turn your back and leave Joel up to whatever it is, whoever it is, he's doing in there, but you don't. You knock, wanting him to know that even if he's occupied, you showed up. You came to him, not for pills, but for sex. For want, for desire, for the ease of the ache between your legs and the itch in your palms that just won't quit no matter how much you make yourself come.

Even with company, he doesn't make you wait long.

So it's not that you're not expecting the shuffle of two sets of feet. Or the thud on the door, heavy and dull like something big had caught itself before falling down. You knew he wasn't alone and, after all, the only thing you could really expect when visiting Joel was that nothing would be as expected.

No, that's not what surprises you at all.

What surprises you is when the door drifts open a fraction, a disembodied hand reaching through and pulling you through the gap, dragging you inside. What surprises you is tripping over his shoes, only they're not his shoes, the feet turned the wrong way up to belong to the all too familiar man standing before you.

What surprises you is seeing a man on his knees in front of Joel Miller.

It surprises you so much, you don't even notice as the door clicks shut and the hand that dragged you inside pulls you once again to stand at his side.

From here you can get a full view. There's a man on his knees in front of Joel. Joel's pants are unbuckled and pulled low on his hips. And then, the entire scene becomes very, very clear.

There is a man on his knees in front of Joel with his cock in his mouth.

So, when Joel looks at you with a glint in his eye, you're suddenly rooted to the spot, staring between him and the man beneath him. A smirk from Joel tells you you've been looking a little too long so, embarrassed and not quite sure what to do with yourself, you spin around, turning to inspect the back of a chair as if it was the most interesting thing in the room, not the man currently bobbing his head up and down on Joel's length.

"Eyes on me, sweetheart," he drawls from behind you. "Ain't no fun for me if you ain't lookin'."

As you always do where Joel is concerned, you do as you're told, taking a deep breath as you turn back to watch the man swallow down Joel's cock. You'd seen this kind of thing before - turned down the wrong street at the wrong time more than once only to see someone on their knees for someone else, earning yourself a wink or an insult for the privilege. But you never stayed to watch. Yet, here you are, staying and watching either because it was Joel, or because he asked, you weren't too sure.

The why doesn't exactly matter, you figure, not when your cheeks were rapidly heating and the wet patch in your panties was doing nothing but grow.

"Think he likes the audience too," Joel is saying, nodding down to the guy on his knees. "Don't you?"

You can see that he does. There's a hard bulge in the front of his pants, a bulge that looks much harder than the cock currently in his mouth.

"Dick always so hard for a straight guy. Think you like being a cocksucker." Joel gives the man an awkward pat on the head and huffs out a laugh, looking away from him to look back at you.

"Likin' what you see, sweetheart?" he jokes, casting dark eyes up and down your body. He can't see much. It's still fucking freezing, which is no surprise for a February in Boston, and you're still wrapped up against the elements because of it. But you know his gaze is looking through all of it, seeing through the layers straight down to your flesh, to your hard nipples and the wetness between your legs. He raises that infuriating, knowing, eyebrow at you and you roll your eyes.

"'m serious, you gotta keep lookin' or I'm never gonna come," he says then, and you drag your eyes back in an instant. You briefly wonder why - how - he would never come from this until it hits you.

Having a man suck his dick isn't Joel Miller's idea of a good time. Whoever the man on his knees is, he owes Joel. Maybe just like you did, or maybe worse. It doesn't matter, because you're not witnessing a blow job, you're witnessing a fucking business transaction.

And so you laugh - not at Joel, or the man, not really, but at the entire fucked situation and the world that brought you to this place.

"Y'hear that?" Joel growls down at the man. "She's laughin' at you."

Pinching his eyes shut, the man groans, and you swear you can see a dark patch starting to form on the front of his pants. It almost feels wrong, looking at another mans bulge like this when Joel's cock is right there, disappearing in and out of the strangers mouth at a languid pace. You can't even ask his name - his mouth too full to get out more than a garbled moan. Maybe names don't matter either.

Joel's eyes haven't left you, and yours haven't left the thatch of hair at the base of his cock. He's harder now, softness completely gone now that you're here to witness it. Giving and watching a blow job are so much different to what you expected. There's a wet sound in the air, for one. That rhythmic, wet noise of a throat being fucked was usually masked by your own moans, made easy to ignore by the distraction filling your mouth. But here, several steps away, it is loud.

"That's it. Keep your eyes right there," Joel murmurs before pointing to your outer layer. "Unzip your coat, lemme see. Get those pretty tits out for me, sweetheart. Don't mind him. He ain't gonna look. Are you?"

The man groans again, keeping his eyes shut as his head bobs on Joel's cock, taking an impressive amount of him down his throat with each movement. There's a small shake of his head, and while you don't believe him, you find you don't care either. You don't know the man on the floor any more than he knows you, and you have a feeling he's likely to keep his mouth shut once he leaves Joel's apartment today anyway.

A fraction of a second later, you're pulling your jacket open and yanking your sweater up above your tits, baring them to Joel. He murmurs something to himself, fisting his shirt tightly as he holds it up, exposing his belly. It strikes you then how damn distracted you had been every time before now - Joel's fingers, or tongue, or cock working you in such a way that you were brainless and oblivious to the physical affects you had on him. Now, its obvious. Like a man possessed, he watches you with blown eyes, his cock in full hardness now as the man below him works him over with his mouth and tongue.

Dragging cool fingers down your exposed chest, you meet your already pebbled nipples, pinching them and holding back a soft gasp. It's as much for you as it is to get a reaction from Joel, and if he didn't know you were wet before, he does now.

"That's it, play with 'em. And keep watching, sweetheart. Want you to watch when I come down his throat."

It's a struggle to keep your eyes open, but certainly not a chore. The man has picked up his pace, sucking and moaning around Joel's length as he slurps it down. He holds back a splutter when Joel's hips buck forward just as you pinch your nipples harder again, squeezing the flesh of your tits in cold palms.

"Fuuck, that's it, keep watchin'. You like that? Bet you want a taste of this dick too, huh?"

You nod, words stuck in your throat as Joel presses the mans head further into his crotch, rocking his hips to fuck lightly into his mouth.

"You needy and dripping over there ain't you?" he growls. He doesn't wait for you to nod, he doesn't need to. "Yeah you fuckin' are. Dirty fuckin' girl, watching my dick gettin' sucked. You like watching, don't you? Say it. Wanna hear it."

"I like it. I like watching, Joel," you say, barely more than a whisper as you become more and more entranced by Joel's cock in the mans mouth.

"Shit. Keep watchin'. Gonna come. Need you to watch."

It's all you can do to hold back a moan, your panties now probably ruined by your dripping, neglected cunt. This was not what you came here for, but watching Joel mumble obscenities and growl filth to you and the man on his knees as he gets his cock sucked was something you never knew you wanted before now. Sure, you want to touch, to play with him yourself. But watching is getting you wetter and wetter without even a finger or the press of your thighs to help you along the way.

"That's it. You keep suckin'. Fuck. Gonna bet you want this load in you not in him, right?"

Nodding frantically, you move a hand to your waistband, a soft plea on your lips, ready to pull your pants down any second. "Please - "

"Fuck - shit - well too bad, sweetheart. You look at that dick gettin' sucked. Shit - gonna come. Look at me. I said look at me."

Your eyes meet his just as they flutter closed. Joel groans a curse, his balls starting to empty into the throat of the man in front of him until he's suddenly tugging the mans hair, pulling his mouth off of his cock. The man gasps, swallowing down what he can as Joel rapidly strokes his spit soaked length, jerking the remains of his spend over the mans face and mouth. His eyes immediately flick to yours, a soft moan having left your own lips the moment Joel started to come, and he groans again, a final spurt coating the mans chin, soaking his facial hair. It's filthy. Not the most filthy thing you know Joel's done, but the most filthy thing you've ever seen him do from the outside. You can't help but stare on in silence, too captivated by the spurts of milky white dripping over the mans face, his eyes still screwed tight. You're aching and desperate to stick a hand down your pants, to feel how wet you are, to touch your clit and make yourself come as you try to hold yourself upright on shaky legs.

Through syrupy blood pulsing in your ears you hear Joel growl down at the man, removing his hand from his hair like it's burned his palm. Then, he's looking to you again, deep brown eyes searching your own before falling down, down to where your hand cups your breast and your other fists the waistband of your pants in a tight grip. He knows - knows that even if you came here already wet and wanting, you were even more so now.

And it's with a smirk and a sharp snap of his fingers that he pulls you back into the room. The man's eyes are open now, avoiding yours as he wipes cum from his face with his sleeve, covertly licking his lips for any remnant taste of Joel. You can't blame him, fuck knows you'd done the same when Joel had swiped a taste of himself over your own lips, but you can't help the jealousy at wanting to taste again too.

It's then you remember your exposed chest, and you yank your sweater back down without another glance to the man on his knees. Joel shakes his head, a shit eating grin spreading across his face as he strides across the room. He goes to the cupboard where you know he keeps a small amount of his stock, rifling through for a second before coming back with a baggy and tossing it down on the floor at the mans knees. He scrambles for it immediately, climbing to his feet and grabbing the door. Joel doesn't look at him again.

"Say hello to your wife for me," Joel calls over his shoulder, and the man scurries away without a word.

Now it's just you and him, his unbuttoned pants the only remaining evidence of what just happened.

You hesitate, partly in stunned silence, partly your brain having turned to liquid between your ears, all coherent thought lost the moment Joel's cum spurted across the mans face. But there's still that unsatisfied ache between your legs, throbbing and making your hand twitch, willing you to reach for him now that he's so close.

Joel sees it, he knows, knows what you came here for and knows what you won't be getting.

"Not today, sweetheart. Couldn't even if I tried," he says gesturing to his spent already dick tucked back into his pants. "Gotta head out again too, so whatever you got goin' on in those panties, you gotta deal with it yourself." He finishes with a wink and a tap to your chin before grabbing a small gym bag from the couch. You hadn't even seen it there, brain too occupied by more interesting things happening in this room at the time.

So it's no surprise, really, when your mouth starts running before your mind can process what it's doing. There's only one thing you're thinking of. One thing, aside from the throb in your core, that you can't stop thinking about, that envy won't let you give up.

"Would you - " your mouth gapes, opening and closing like a fish while your mind stutters and stops. You shouldn't even ask. There's no answer that can satisfy that particular itch. Not as quickly as you'd want it, at least. If he said yes, he'd already said nothing could happen right now, and if he said no, well... there was something about the thought of him denying you that did something to you too. There was no winning.

"Would I what?"

Of course, Joel had already heard. Even as he potters about the apartment, dumping stuff into the bag from places you've not been paying attention to. He stops, prompting you to go on.

"Would you... Would you come in my mouth like that? One time?"

He stares at you with his mouth open in disbelief. "You want me to come in your mouth?"

You nod, your mouth suddenly so fucking dry you can't speak anymore. You'd been salivating, able to practically taste the phantom flavor of Joel's cum on your tongue just a moment ago. Now, it was like you'd been chewing on bricks, tongue sticky and dry and your teeth feeling like an awkward jumble in your mouth.

"Well, shit. Call the press. Respectable good girl wants to be my little cocksucker -"

"Fine, if you're going to make fun, I don't -"

"Woah, hold on, I'm fuckin' with you. I ain't gonna turn down shutting that pretty mouth up with my dick. Gotta do it more than one time though, sweetheart. You around tomorrow?"

Between jobs and your dad having a day off, it would be a few days before you could come back. Shaking your head, you offer up Thursday instead. It's only three days away. You can make it three more days. Right?

"Thursday works for me. Come by in the afternoon. I'll come in that mouth, and then I'll play with that pussy while I get worked up again," he says before adding, with a cock of his head, "Then I'll come in that too."

And you're dumbstruck - the fantasy you concocted in your own head far surpassed by Joel's own, seemingly thought up right on the spot as he maneuvers you out into the hallway.

"See you then, sweetheart."

He pushes you out of the door, fingers electrified where they touch your shoulder. You expect the door to snap shut behind you, like it has so many times before, but he follows you out into the hallway, locking the door behind him. With a wink, he stalks off down the corridor, legs carrying him out of the apartment block too quick for you to keep up.

Later that night, alone in bed and wondering how the hell you're going to last two more days like this, you rub yourself stupid to thoughts of Joel's cock in a mouth that isn't yours.

taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters #joel miller/reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #Joel Miller x m!OC #fic: SWAT #coveted fics

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midknightwritings · 1 year

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Anddd another request..I’m not sure if you’ve already done it but here you go..!

Again, if I broke any rules please ignore or delete this

How will these characters(Mika,Leo, and Izumi)react to you/reader crying for the first time?

Reader is a very “strong” levelheaded/serious person and no one has seen them cry before. Not even their own family(except the mom) or close friends

But of course, everyone has their limits and Reader has been so stressed out that they cried for the first time in years

What they didn’t know though was that their s/o was planning a surprise visit that very same day

I’m Here For You

Synopsis : After dealing with constant stress for the past few months, today you finally reached a breaking point. Letting out your emotions in the comfort of your home, the last thing you would've expected was a surprise visit from your lovely partner.

Era : N / A

Warning/s : Stress / Overworking / Breakdown / Hurt & Comfort

Mentioned Character/s : G/N!Reader / Leo / Izumi / Mika

Word Count : 1,579

A/N : Shimeji anon this actually hits so close to home for me cuz I’m literally like that too LMAO I keep it in for ages until I flat out explode AHAHAHA Anyways~ Once again I'm really sorry this took forever but I hope you enjoy regardless 🥺 💕

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Today was just awful, you could even argue that it was the worst day you've ever experienced in literal years. Various tasks and projects alike seemed to pile up due to the busy season that's currently happening but the problem was that none of your peers were pulling their weights… At all… Originally, you were tasked with handling a do-able job, which would’ve been simple to complete in itself. Yet, the problem was the fact that your part was heavily reliant on your peers' parts but, since your peers were doing absolutely nothing, you ended up having to do their work in order to meet the actual deadlines… So it’s safe to say that you were overwhelmed, stressed and overall just not having a great time.

You thanked every star in the sky and whatever higher being up there that you were able to hold yourself together throughout the day but, as you were packing away your things once you got back home, the emotional bottle within you finally bursted. Soft, quiet sobs escaped your lips as you tried to stop yourself by wiping the tears away but they kept on coming with no end in sight. So… after years of staying cool and keeping yourself together, you finally allowed yourself to shatter under the pressure and let everything out.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Leo Tsukinaga :

Leo wanted to surprise you with a new song that he composed so he climbed up the tree beside your bedroom window and was about to swing it open, [ usually he would throw rocks to get your attention but at some point you gave him a small key so he can unlock it from the outside before he ends up actually breaking the glass ], when he suddenly stopped as he felt his heart shatter at the sight that laid before him. You were curled up in your bed as your shoulders shook from how hard you were crying, your sobs emanated throughout the room as Leo looked at you worryingly. So he opened the window carefully before he hopped onto your bedroom floor.

This caused you to perk up but you didn’t even have the emotional capacity to hide your emotions as you desperately tried to wipe away your tears instead. Leo could tell that you were trying to calm yourself down and he had his own idea to help you with that! With a big smile and his signature laugh, he tackled you into a bear hug and smoldered you with kisses, no part of your face was spared. He even kissed the tears away before he snuggled into the crook of your neck.

Leo isn’t good with words and he knows that so, instead of fumbling to say the right thing, he started to hum a gentle melody instead.

At this point, he has you in an embrace where you’re both cuddling each other, your head's resting against his chest as you could hear the rhythmic beating of his heart while he hummed his ballad dedicated to you. His hums caused small rumbles in his chest that could be felt through the embrace. You both stayed like this for a while as you let everything out before finally calming down. Through it all, Leo was even playing with your hair as he comforted you.

Once you were ok, he would pepper you with kisses once again as he proudly proclaims how much “I love you!” His kisses are light, causing you to giggle from how ticklish they were.

“Wahaha~☆ You’re laughing again! Ah~ Your laugh is a wonderful melody, my muse! I can feel inspiration gushing forth once more!”

For the rest of the night, Leo would distract you from your thoughts by playing games, singing songs or just generally doing anything to make sure that your project doesn’t even cross your mind. After all, to Leo…

Your smile is the most beautiful thing in the entire galaxy.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Izumi Sena :

Izumi came to visit you because he was worried. Your last text seemed a bit off. There was no logical reason behind this feeling. To anyone else, it seemed like a regular message from you but Izumi’s gut feeling told him otherwise… And he was right. Izumi had a spare key since he would often come over to cook for you and just take care of you in general, and he would even proclaim how much he hated waiting outside, so when he entered your house to see you curled into yourself on the couch, his eyes widened with worry as he walked up towards you.

This was the first time Izumi has ever seen you cry, so it was a bit jarring for him as he didn’t know how to comfort you. He knew he shouldn’t say anything sarcastic or harsh, since that would most likely make you cry even more, so he just sat beside you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders before pulling you close.

The two of you stayed like that as you gripped onto his shirt and cried into it, your tears made his outfit wet but that’s not important right now… What’s more important is the fact that you’re releasing all the pent up emotions within you, and Izumi will be that shoulder you can cry on in order to achieve that. No words were exchanged as a comforting silence surrounded the two of you, the sensation of him gently rubbing your back helped you greatly.

Izumi’s quick to figure out what must’ve happened. After all, the timing of everything lined up perfectly; One moment you were venting to him about your peers and your project, the next you’re crying by yourself at home. It doesn’t take a detective to figure out that the problem stemmed from your project and peers alike.

Once you finally calmed down and your sobs turned into small sniffles, Izumi would take some tissues and wipe away your tears, all the while mumbling about how you look “absolutely awful” but his tone clearly implies that he just hated seeing you in such a state of anguish.

“Come here... Go wash your face and freshen up. I better not see any more tears or snot when you get back, am I clear?!” [ Translation : Go and wash your face, it’ll help make you feel better. I’ll still be here waiting for you when you’re done. ]

This is when Mama Sena kicks in as he immediately starts to take care of you in order to make you feel better. Just relax as he cooks a hearty dinner that will surely take your breath away! What’s that? You still need to work on your project even when you’re at home? There’s no way in hell Izumi would let you do that all alone! So c’mon, don’t be annoying and explain the details already! Let him help while he’s here because…

He’ll do everything in his power to make sure you’re not carrying this type of burden alone ever again.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Mika Kagehira :

Mika stood outside your door anxiously as he fidgeted on the spot. Usually you would answer the moment he rang the doorbell or, at least, yell through the door that you were coming to open it. So the fact that he didn’t hear anything for a while caused him to immediately assume the worst, and seeing your puffy eyes when you did open the door freaked him out.

You thought you hid your breakdown well but the moment Mika asked you what was wrong, as his heterochromatic eyes were filled to the brim with worry, you couldn’t help but fall apart once again. Small confused noises and squeaks left his lips as he guided you back inside your house, closing your front door with his foot, before pulling you into a comforting hug.

You both just stood there as he slightly swayed you from side to side, all the while he would rub your back, caress your hair, and pretty much do everything he could to try and get you to calm down as you continued to cry into his chest.

He didn’t know what happened, and the fact that you were seriously so distraught that even you of all people started to cry, caused millions of thoughts to run through his head. You’re known to be so calm and level-headed, even through the most challenging moments Mika could ever imagine, so he knew that whatever happened seriously affected you to the core.

The moment your tears dried up and you slowly stopped crying, Mika would pull you into a more tighter, but still gentle, embrace. Small hushes would leave his lips as he would comfort you to the best of his abilities and, once you were ok, you would both pull away from the hug. Mika would wipe any remaining tears off your cheeks as he would give you a soft smile. It had a hint of worry within it, but that’s just because he wanted to make sure that you’re genuinely ok again.

“No buts! I ain’t hearin’ them from ya! Imma stay here till yer feelin’ better n’ that’s final!”

Mika would be there by your side for the rest of the night, listening intently to your vents and rambles about the entire situation as he would even make some comments here and there about your whole ordeal. Overall, he would be there for you to let it all out because, at the end of the day…

He doesn’t want to see you crumble again in the future…

#leo tsukinaga x reader #izumi sena x reader #mika kagehira x reader #ensemble stars #enstars #enstars x reader #ensemble stars x reader #enstars x y/n #ensemble stars x y/n #enstars x you #ensemble stars x you #gender neutral reader #esworks #🍬 hansel's writing

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allgoldenelite · 7 months

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quick summary of ibushi's latest video (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9KQmatyqi6Q)

[please be aware that this is cw body image, weight loss etc]

opens vid by reflecting on wembley, that even the 11 times he was in the tokyo dome, it just isn't the same as the feeling of [being in such a big stadium in front of such a large crowd etc]. but he wasn't nervous at all.

when asked why he went to the UK via a detour to the US, he says kenny called him over to what he thought would be to make sure there wasn't anything wrong with his contract (which he signed the last time he was there, so around blood&guts). remarks how much freedom the contract gives him [in my mind it's basically a piece of paper that says "i can do whatever i want :)", signed by tony khan].

turns out, however, he's there to train to get into shape for wembley. he thinks he arrived the first day around late evening, 8 or 9, and then they trained from 10 ish to midnight. says it was pure hell.

this continues pretty much for the whole 6 days he was there. he trains, he eats lunch, he trains some more, rinse and repeat.

recounts one time he was to be picked up at 9:30, but he fell dead asleep cause he was so tired and when he woke up, [kenny? nakazawa?] had already sent him a text like "i'm downstairs, come down anytime" 15 minutes before he was to pick him up. he quickly changed and then they went to kenny's house, where he has a private gym.

likens the gym, space and equipment wise, to his secret base, so pretty incredible. they trained there for another 2 hours, together with nakazawa.

says he doesn't remember them going out just to hang out even once. all it was was hard training. the 6 days felt like they barely happened because of that.

[keep in mind that he laughs about some of this, even when he says he was essentially tricked, so make of that whatever you will]

talking about losing weight he mentions that the day before [the gleat match] he had a fever of 40 C [104 F]. he doesn't remember the match itself however, because he was in such poor shape for it [physically] that he wanted to delete it from his memory. he doesn't want to look at his body how it was back then. says he was ugly, looked like a pig.

imanari tells him to stop. ibushi just says that it wasn't really him [back then in the match; because of how much he dislikes how he looked].

but what's clearly left in his memory is the backstage comments. standing there with the other four members of his team, the atmosphere of it. it made him very nostalgic.

next they talk about an anecdote about imanari and him being "backstage" at a rizin show in late july, where it turns out ibushi overheard a fight between 2 people as he went to the restroom, and got between them to "break it up" because he didn't see security doing so. says that's how he was raised [to help out if others, just act if there is a need etc].

shortly after he got sick and couldn't move/work out [that's why he missed the gleat presser]. this is the end of part 1.

#translation #translation tag #ibushi kota #rasslin #kota ibushi

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yonemurishiroku · 9 months

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I was rereading The Blood of Olympus today, and I realized how much I just do not like Piper.

Whenever Piper is in a chapter, to me it feels like she’s always being pushy, selfish, or overprotective. Also, it may just be me with this opinion.

When Piper is in the temple of fear with Annabeth, Piper is the one who takes control of the situation. In my opinion the way Rick explained it didn’t make sense. Annabeth is the one who is always calm and collected. Even with trauma. Piper is the one who acts on impulse and what she wants, (as displayed when she jumps down the chute even though Annabeth warns her not to). Although this action may have been necessary to the mission, it what reckless.

Also, despite Piper knowing something is up with Leo, continues to treat him like a third wheel and as someone who could be sacrificed. It just doesn’t make her a likable character.

As my last little tid-bit on this topic, Piper committed crimes before becoming part of the seven. I don’t think this should be ignored as a part of her character. It shows how much she craves attention and isn’t above breaking the law to get it. There is certain things that are *somewhat* understandable for not having attention from your parents, but never should breaking the law be considered okay to do because of that.

Who knows, maybe I’m reading her character wrong but that’s the way I see her. Please dissect this.

I just want to say that, as someone who has been trying to keep it down to only Nico, to receive an ask specifically about another character I've paid no attention to surely is an experience lol.

Anyway. Let's see. From your words, Piper doesn't seem to be a likable character, which is to be expected. As far as I'm concerned though, Piper, as a character, just does not interest me enough for me to form an opinion. I'm more of a "eh whatever" or "oh. cool" when it comes to her. It also does not help that I haven't read The Lost Hero, and my brain just straight up auto-deletes everything that's not Nico-related, so you can say my grasp of Piper McLean is limited at best and non-existant at worst.

If there's anything I remember about her, then that'd be the times I had to skip some pages of her and Jason (like I did to Percabeth, bc I disliked romantic scenes with everything in me and that's nothing new).

With that being said, as someone technically blank, I feel that your dislike to Piper is already set in stone, so there's no changing to that, and it's not like you need to change anyway. I wouldn't like such a character in your description either. 😂😂😂

About that scene of Annabeth and Piper, (keep in mind that I am not aware of that scene but directly referencing it through your retelling) I think what Rick was trying is to make Piper a direct contradiction to Annabeth in terms of action repertoire - a type of recklessness to the latter's meticulousness.

(Wow Percabeth and Jiper are actually a square full of contradictions)

However. The line between 'bold, risk-taking' and straigh-up stupidity is but a fine line. I will not judge Piper without properly re-reading the whole thing (which I won't), but I can see where you get it from.

I just want to say a few words about the last part. The thing about Piper's criminal record.

I understand that, from a reader's point of view, it'd be unlikable for a character to commit a crime, specifically, to "gain attraction". Though, while the action itself is inexcusable, it should also be acknowledged that Piper - like 90% of the PJO cast - was a teenager, who grew up with barely any parental guidance (or at least that's what I remember). A figure as such is bound to make mistakes, as well as cause debates over their likeliness. I do agree that what Piper did was wrong (I mean. that's like. the law), however there's a reason and background to said wrongdoing.

It's not okay, nor is it right to do so, but it's understandable. That's all.

That is to say: fuck it. I have been resenting Percy since the day I read PJO, you can dislike Piper all you want. We're just humans, not saints. Just don't go around shitting on people with different likes then you're good to go! 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️😂

While we are at it, I'm quite curious as to how this was "ignored as a part of her character". I'm guessing that Rick failed to incorporate Piper's background into her own character as she's developed? Then that's not Piper's fault. That's just Rick and his YA writing lmao.

#piper mclean #annabeth chase #pjo #hoo #toa #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #yone rambling #over analyzing #rick riordan

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angelmichelangelo · 7 months

Note

I hate how tmnt will only ever give Mikey development in the comics like he has phased out into a background character at this point who is barley relevant in fact the only reason they add him is because he's part of a package deal and it would be hard to get rid of him even though it's become obvious they don't want Mikey a part of the series what so ever so they do everything in their power to make him as less relevant as they can. Also isn't it suspicious how when any big Mikey projects are in production of being made they suddenly get cancelled.? there was supposed to be a foot solider Mikey movie that got cancelled and the last Ronin was actually in production of being Mikey since the 90s there was another Mikey centric movie were his bros and sensei reverted back to turtles but guess what it got cancelled anything Mikey related that's important either gets \cancelled or thrown into the comics also rise actually had multiple Mikey centric eps on hand but the show got cancelled like it's honestly starting to get annoying let my boy live.

oh yeah, it’s definitely an unfortunate cycle of mikey being cut for time in almost any iteration outside of the comics. i think whilst a lot of people are familiar with all the ninja turtles outside of the realm of fandom, mikey is pretty much “the face man” of the franchise. he’s the one that most kids grew up having as their favourite. he’s gonna be front and center on lunchboxes and kiddie pyjamas. i think in that sense he’s pretty safe from ever being killed off or chopped from the actual franchise itself (plus if they ever did that permanently to any of the turtles, it would cause pretty big uproar) but it means as a result, he’s taken less seriously

i think it just unfortunately falls under the fact that whatever show/movie you’re watching, it quickly becomes apparent what turtle was the favourite of the writers and directors. pretty sure i’ve mentioned this before but the 2003 writers openly expressed how much they enjoyed leo + donnie as characters. you watch the 2003 series and that’s really plainly obvious. it’s not a bad thing, but again, every writer does it. heck, i do it. i write more mikey centric fics than i do, say, donnie, because it’s just more fun that way. a character will ultimately have to suffer at the hands of a writers bias, and sadly it’s always mikey that ends up suffering. just not in the way we want him to lol

that being said it gives me a little hope for the mutant mayhem series and sequel since seth rogan has voiced his favourite being mikey multiple times. i don’t think mutant mayhem solely focused on any one turtle, which i enjoyed, but going into future mediums for that branch of the franchise, i’m keeping my hopes high that he does just something with mikey. the potential is there. i would love to see what he does with it

but yeah. looking back, poor mike gets the short end of the stick. it’s funny, whenever i go back and do a 2012 rewatch, i get about halfway through the space arc and start to feel my enthusiasm dwindle, mostly because “journey to the centre of mikey’s mind” is like. the LAST mikey centric episode of the entire rest of the series (granted he has cool moments in later eps and isn’t totally under-utilised) but if you want an ep that’s just for him, it sadly ends right there.

same with 2003. i adore 2003 mikey but he doesn’t have a whole lot of episode focused on him. i was surprised going into rise that, even though it was considerably shorter than other shows, he still managed to have just a sparing amount of focused episodes on him alone. and then when looking into the deleted episodes, it didn’t really come as a big shock to me that a lot of those deleted episodes were mikey episodes (man i would have really really loved to have seen the robo pet one!!)

it’s also pretty consistent that whatever show or movie, the writers often talk about a plot where mikey’s brothers either end up de-mutated or de-aged and mike has to be the one to save them. kinda funny because it’s like: here’s this opportunity to have mikey really prove himself as more than capable and not just a goof — and yet, multiple times now that idea has been cut and he hasn’t had his chance to prove himself that way

i’m a mikey fan. i love all the turtles the same but i definitely am a mikey fan through and through. of course i’m gonna want a mikey centric plot and arc and all this. i know the chances of ever getting it are very slim but. yknow. i have the last ronin at least…… *sobs*

ANYWAY THAT GOT LONG i hope i didn’t sound like i was coming off like a real curmudgeon there i do still love what mikey we have been given in the last. 40 odd years.. but JUSTICE FOR MIKEY!!! he needs to be given his flowers. someone put him through the emotional meat grinder or i will <3

thanks for this ask anon!!

#ask #anon #tmnt mikey

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sweetest-florida-blue-peach · 1 year

Text

Southern Roots Series:

Song: Why'd You Come In Here Lookin' Like That

Artist: Dolly Parton

Characters for Scenario: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

{{And before y'all come at me with your pitchforks and torches, HE IS AGED UP, so stop clutching your pearls and quit looking at me like I scandalized a nun}}

Warnings: None that I can think of other than Bakugou's usual potty mouth. Part of the scenario takes place in a bar, so there are mentions of alcohol and drinking, and cigarettes. Not sure if any of these are relevant for a warning, but I'm adding them just in case. Oh, and breakup angst, because, why not?

Notes: Tried to keep the reader GN. Concept is almost entirely from Reader’s perspective, so lots of usage of the pronoun ‘you’. Bartender calls Reader “sugar, hon, darlin’,” etc. Bartender is ‘she/her’. {Bartender is my self-insert, and no, this post was not intended to be all about her, but she is integral to the underlying story}. Uses they/them pronouns when discussing Reader. If I slipped up anywhere, politely tell me, and I’ll go back and edit.

Word Count: Bruh, I ain't got the mental capacity to count right now 🤣😭

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For @trashpotatoess.

Sloane, my love, my darlin', my dearest, my wonderful friend--I am so, so, SO sorry for the lateness of this, and doubly sorry if it’s absolute garbage, but I sincerely hope you enjoy your requested scenario. 💙

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

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Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? In your cowboy boots and your painted-on jeans, all decked out like a cowgirl's dream. Why'd you come in here looking like that?

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The bass of whatever song is croaking through the speakers is doing nothing to help the ache that’s been building up in your head for the last few days. Between that and the seemingly never-ending hangover, your brain was constantly pounding against your skull.

It’s been three months. Three months of tears, anger, denial, depression, alcohol, and mornings where you struggled to get out of bed. Three months of staring at the cracked screen of your phone, hoping for a notification from him. You had thrown it at your bedroom wall in a fit of rage after he had texted you for the last time asking for his things back. One half of you wished that you’d never deleted your social media, but you did it because you were prone to stalking his account, and you were glad you did. You were downright terrified of what you might find on there. Or who you might find on there. The other half wished that he’d text again, perhaps even be so courteous as to call. Just so you could answer and tell him to go to hell before hanging up.

Three months of this back-and-forth war with yourself was about to drive you absolutely insane, as was the thought of spending another aimless night holed up in your apartment. So you did the logical thing. You came to the only decent bar Yuuie had to offer and were drinking your sorrows away--for the eighth time this month.

As you down your second drink of the night, you stare down at the brim of your empty glass, mulling over how you found yourself here. A pair of crimson eyes, ash-blonde hair, and a devil-may-care smile flash through your mind. Sighing, you lean your elbows on the bar, bringing your fingertips up to your temples to massage them, trying to rid yourself of some of the discomfort.

The worst part about the breakup wasn’t actually the breakup itself. Sure, there was the screaming and the arguing before he eventually hopped in his truck and left you in a cloud of dust, but that wasn’t the worst part. No, the worst part was the fact that everyone knew about it almost as soon as it happened. And it’s all anyone had been gossiping about. For weeks. So even if you wanted to try and forget and move on, you couldn’t. The price and curse of living in a small town. Everyone knows everyone, and you have no kind of privacy whatsoever. You couldn’t even nurse your heartache behind closed doors because someone was always dropping by your place to “check up on you”.

It also didn’t help that your ex was practically famous. A traveling bull rider and Yuuie rodeo champion for the last six consecutive years, he’d made quite a name for himself.

His rodeo stage name was ridiculous.

The Great Explosion Murder God and his equally explosive steed, Dynamight.

That was the title the papers had graced him with after his amazing win on the bull riding portion of the rodeo. No one expected him to last eight seconds on Yuuie’s most notorious bull, Samson. Samson was the bull that put more cowboys out of commission than any farm accident ever could. But your ex craved challenges just as much as he craved the sweet taste of nicotine in his favorite cigarettes. So he rode Samson. And hung on for twenty-three seconds before being flung off. He’d been the town hero ever since.

Around rodeo season, everywhere you looked, pictures of TGEMG could be seen on every visible window, telephone poll, and building wall imaginable. But you never saw him as the golden boy of Yuuie. You saw him for who he was. A troublemaker with an explosive temper, as hotheaded and stubborn as Samson the bull. To Yuuie, he was The Great Explosion Murder God.

But to you? He was simply Katsuki Bakugou.

Just the thought of his name caused a sour taste to build up in your mouth. Running your fingers through your already messy hair, you seriously contemplate banging your head onto the polished bar.

“Can I get you another, sugar?” A sweet voice draws you out of your thoughts. You glance up and see the bartender swiping down the counter with a wet cloth. Her dark hair is pulled back into a messy bun, with a few loose strands hanging out here and there. Light, subtle strokes of mascara cling to her lashes, accentuating the color of her eyes, two different hues of brown; the left eye a much lighter shade than the right.

A black Jameson Irish Whiskey racerback clings to her curves, accentuating her hourglass figure. A delicate silver chain hangs around her neck, an unknown pendant playing hide-and-seek in the plunging neckline of her tank.

She cuts her mismatched eyes to your glass. “Do you want another, or are you calling it a night?”

Without a word, you shove it toward her. She raises a questioning brow at your actions, lips quirking up slightly, but to your surprise and thankfulness, she doesn’t say anything else. She just grabs the bottle of your favorite liquor and refills your glass for the third time. As she works, you take a moment to study her.

She was new in town. Landed a job as a bartender. Quiet, kept to herself. A walking enigma as no one really knew anything about her. Hell, you weren’t even sure what her name was. All anyone knew was that she moved to Yuuie shortly after you and Katsuki had called it quits. But from her accent and manners, you would’ve thought she was a local. She fit in well enough, seeming to belong with the rest of you, as if she’d been here the entire time.

Setting the glass back in front of you, she gives you a small smile. “Here you go, darlin’.”

You blink once. Twice. You then seem to realize that you still need to pay for your drink. Snapping out of your daze, you reach into your pocket to pull out your wallet. Your fingertips barely brush the stash of bills you have tucked away when the bartender shakes her head.

“On the house, hon.”

You stare incredulously at her. She shrugs, grabbing up empty beer bottles. “You look like you need it.”

You wince as the coolness of the glass seeps into your palms. “That obvious, huh?”

She snorts, wiping down the counter again before throwing the towel over her shoulder. “I’m a bartender; it’s my business to be observant. Kinda part of the job description.” Brushing back the stray hairs dangling in her face, she sticks out a hand. “I’m Blue.”

This time, it’s your turn to raise a brow. “Blue? Like the color?”

An expression settles on her face as if she’s in another place, another time, but she doesn’t give you a chance to dwell on it or even ask what she’s thinking about. The look disappears almost as quickly as it came, replaced by a wistful smile. “Exactly like the color.”

“That’s not your real name is it?” You ask. Again, you lived in a small town. And small towns came with a variety of names. Some were vintage, a little older but still respectable: Beau, Imogen, Pearl, and Edmund. Others were very Southern: Cash, Oakley, Easton, Wes, and anything that ended in ‘Lynn’. And then there were the off-the-wall ones like Cooter, Gator, Coon, Younique, Texas, Amarillo, and a few others that were just plain ridiculous. All in all, Blue wasn’t too bad a name to be saddled with.

She shakes her head, a small chuckle rumbling through her. “No. It’s....a nickname. Well, one of them. Two different nicknames gifted from two very different people. Blue and Peach.”

“Peach?” The dubiousness of your tone causes her to throw her head back and laugh.

“A long story from a lifetime ago. I got so used to them when I was younger that I sometimes wouldn’t respond to my actual name. Feel free to call me either. I’ll respond to both, but if I’m being honest, Blue is my preferred choice.”

Stretching out your arm, you take her hand in yours, giving it a firm shake. “Well, nice to meet you then, Blue.”

Her eyes sparkle, wrapping her fingers around yours. “Likewise.”

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Even though the clock on your phone reads only a quarter past ten, the tavern was nearly jam-packed with patrons.

Several people crowd the bar. Few were playing pool or making bets on a game of darts. Others had paired off and were line-dancing on the dance floor to whatever playlist Present Mic had geared up for the evening.

Laughter bubbles in your chest as you take another shot. You were tipsy, borderline drunk, your giggles growing louder and louder, everything becoming funnier by the second. You were finally beginning to unwind and relax a little.

Okay, you had relaxed A LOT.

Blue made you hand over your keys after your fourth shot of vodka. When you tried protesting, she silenced you with a glare that nearly rivaled your mother’s.

“I’ll give you a lift when my shift ends. Until then, these,” she jangled your keys in front of your face before dropping them into a glass jar that she stashed behind the counter, “are staying with me.”

You begrudgingly but gratefully accepted, especially as you were aware of the way Sheriff Enji Todoroki had been cracking down on drunk driving lately. You didn’t want to take any chances of getting thrown in the slammer and giving the town yet another reason to talk about you. The breakup was enough fuel to keep the fires going for a good long while.

To keep yourself from reliving the event and becoming a blubbering mess, you impulsively decided to ask Blue to tell you about herself.

She gave you a look that you couldn't quite perceive before sucking in her bottom lip and whistling to her partner.

"Neijire! I'm taking ten."

Your eyes travel in the direction of Blue's attention, landing on the bouncing figure of the other bartender. She wore nearly an identical outfit to Blue’s, but her shirt was more strategically ripped to bare more skin and bore the Jack Daniels logo instead of Jameson. She was happily putting a hefty bill into the Tip Jar, but Blue's words turned her mouth down into a pout.

"You're just now taking a break? Blue!" Neijire scolds, throwing a rag at the back of Blue's head. "You need to take your breaks as they come. Being on your feet for hours gets real exhausting real fast. I don't need you burnt out during your shifts."

Blue gives her a sarcastic salute while Neijire just rolls her eyes. She reaches across the counter, grabbing a pen, scribbling something down on a notepad. Ripping the paper cleanly off, she shoves it into Blue's hand, her golden eyes glittering in the low lights of the bar.

"Go ahead and give this to FatGum. He'll whip up something for you in the back. Take all your missed breaks and get yourself some dinner too. I don't want you back behind this counter until you've eaten something, you hear?"

“Neijire-chan! Can I get another over here, sweetheart?” One of the patrons calls, holding their glass up.

Neijire winks at you both, tucking back a curly lock of lavender-purple hair. “Welcome! What can I get y’all started with?”

Blue limbos under the ‘employees only’ trapdoor and plops herself beside you on a cushy barstool, grinning. "What do you wanna know?"

"Anything,” you answer, slamming your shot glass down after swigging the contents. “Do you like living in Yuuie? What's your name? What's your sign? When's your birthday? Do you have any tattoos? Have you ever done anything illegal?" The questions were pouring out of you like water from a leaking spicket.

Blue laughs as she hands off her meal ticket to one of the passing waiters, setting it on top of his empty serving tray. "Thanks, Mirio!”

The blonde bows at the waist, a thousand gigawatt smile flashing. “A pleasure, Miss Blue.”

She waves him off, shaking her head at him and his antics before turning back to you. “This sounds more like an interrogation than a getting-to-know-you icebreaker."

"Well, it's not only me that's curious. The whole town has been abuzz about you since you got here. You're like a mystery novel with no ending."

Blue's face scrunches up in disbelief. "I'm an open book! Hit me."

“Do you have any pets?”

Her entire face lights up when you ask her that.

"Do you wanna see my cat?"

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And that’s how you found yourself about an hour later, learning everything there was to know about the elusive new bartender.

She whipped out her phone, showing you pictures of a tiny white kitten with a splotched black tail and scattered salt and pepper patches on her face and back. For reasons unbeknownst to you, she named it Queso Mozzarella but lovingly calls her 'Mozzy' for short. Your heart squeezed at the absolute adorableness.

After Blue put her phone away, she began to tell you about herself, bit by bit. Almost like putting together a 5000 piece jigsaw puzzle.

One of the first things she told you was her favorite flavor. Any and everything peach.

"I actually got the nickname 'Peach' when I was in elementary school because I always brought a fresh peach for lunch, even when they weren't in season."

She despises oranges, mainly because she's allergic to them.

"I swell up like a Goodyear Blimp. It ain't very comely."

She likes chocolate milk, mozzarella sticks, forget-me-not flowers, 80's movie soundtrack music, and her favorite color is blue (real surprise there).

"Told you, I'm an open book."

But the thing that shocked you the most was when you discovered that your previous assumption about her had been right. She did grow up in Yuuie.

"Born and raised."

"Then why did you move away?"

Blue fiddles with the basket of fries that came with her mountain of a burger. She’d polished off most of her food, playing with the remaining bits she couldn’t quite eat. Mirio dropped it off earlier, as well as a giant glass of sweet tea. He had playfully ruffled her hair despite Blue's protests before disappearing back into the sea of dancing bodies.

"My dad was in the military. He ended up getting promoted to a higher rank and stationed in another country the winter I became a junior. He packed us up and moved us overseas before I could finish the year out." A heavy sigh escapes her lips. She picks up a French fry, dipping it into a small bowl of ranch dressing. That was yet another thing you learned about her: she hated eating ketchup with her fries.

It drops back onto the checkered parchment paper in the plastic basket.

"I didn't even get to say goodbye."

You slightly sober up at the sadness in her tone. However, before you or she could say anything else, a frazzled-looking Neijire rushes to y'all's end of the bar. "Blue, it's the Pre-Midnight Rush. I need some help back here."

Blue nods. “On my way, darlin’.” She wipes her hands on her jeans, standing.

“Back to work, then.” She pushes the basket towards you. "Here. You should eat something to soak up all that alcohol you've been drinking."

You take it, deciding to heed her advice. She rounds the bar, walking to the sink to wash her hands before clocking back in.

“Hey, y’all,” she greets the fresh flood of customers alongside Nejire. “Pick your poisons.”

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"So why did you come back?" You shout at her over the pumping bass. Present Mic turned the tunes over to his DJ in training, Kyoka Jirou around midnight. The later it got, the louder the music became. And Jirou seemed to prefer it that way.

Blue vigorously shakes a silver canister before pouring a pink margarita into a salted glass. She throws a cherry in the middle of it, topping it off with a sliced lime before handing it off to the person who ordered it.

"My gramma is sick," she answers, shoveling ice into a few glasses. "I'm the only person willing to come take care of her."

Blue didn't seem too keen on delving into details, and you were smart enough to take the silent hint and not ask. You’re nursing your eleventh, maybe twelfth drink? as she steers the conversation away to lighter subjects.

She regales you with a story of how the town flirt and electrician, Denki Kaminari, shocked himself on an electric pole after he tried hitting on her as she was walking home with her groceries the other day.

“He kept giving me a thumbs up from the back of the ambulance and muttering ‘yay’. I feel so bad but I couldn’t help but laugh at him,” Blue chuckles as she polishes another pint glass before putting it on the shelf. “Bless his heart.”

“Sounds like a typical day for him.” You slur, a hiccup escaping your lips. “He gets electrocuted so much that everyone in Yuuie calls him Sparky.” You chug back the rest of your bourbon, belching loudly. “Except for Jirou. She calls him ‘Jammingyay’.”

Blue gently pries the glass from your hand. “Jammingyay? Well, that’s certainly creative. I always used to call him Pikachu.” She places it in the sink, eliciting a drunken whine from you. “Sorry, sugar. I’m officially cutting you off. You’re three sheets to the wind.”

“Am not,” you insist, but your vision blurs and you aren’t sure which Blue you’re looking at. The one on the left or the one on the right. Both of them frown at you.

“Yeeeeaaah, definitely time to call it quits. You’re as full as a tick on a bloodhound.”

You burst into a deep belly laugh at her euphemism. Your laughter ends, as does the song that had been playing. Some rough feedback from the speakers grabs everyone’s attention, as well as the tap-tap-tapping of someone’s finger against a microphone.

“Alrighty, y’all. It’s that time of the night. Karaoke hour,” Jirou announces, stirring up the crowd as they erupt into a fit of cheerful hollers. “You know the rules. Take a number, pick a song, and sing your little drunk hearts out.” Jirou places a couple of spare mics on her counter as a slew of girls immediately rush her DJ station.

You scoff. “Who would wanna do something as dumb as karaoke?”

Blue flips a bottle behind her back, catching it before filling up a row of shot glasses. She takes out a lighter from her pocket, flicking it before setting the row on fire. They burn for a couple of seconds before she whips out two coffee mugs, setting them over the shots one at a time. After the flames die down, she passes them out to awaiting patrons.

“I dabble in it from time to time. It’s a good way to get your emotions out or feelings across.”

“You’re joking, right?”

She shrugs. “To each their own. We all cope in different ways.”

You feel the corner of your mouth twitch.

“Blue! I need a pitcher of sangria and three whiskey sours!” Neijire shouts the orders as she places more bills into the Tip Jar and rings up tabs.

Blue sighs, glancing up at you from under her lashes. “Never a moment of peace around here, I’ll tell ya that.”

As she makes her way to Neijire, you replay her words over and over in your head.

‘We all cope in different ways.’

The first song gears up on the karaoke machine, lyrics displayed on an ancient projector screen. Familiar chords of a song you loved singing on long road trips start to filter out of the speakers, and the soft, subtle backup vocals of Dolly Parton croon in your ears.

You had no idea who was currently butchering one of the best songs (in your opinion) that Dolly Parton ever created, but you couldn’t help but want to sing along.

“Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? In your cowboy boots and your painted-on jeans, all decked out like a cowgirl's dream. Why'd you come in here looking like that? Here comes my baby, draggin' my heart behind. He's drivin' me crazy! Who says love is blind? He's got a wanderin' eye and a travelin' mind, big ideas and a little behind. Out with a different woman every night, but I remember when he was mine.”

And how had you been coping? Not moving from your couch in several days, refusing to change out of your ratty pajamas. Hygiene had been a foreign concept during the first week or so after you and Katsuki had called it quits. You didn’t shower. You didn’t bother putting on a new outfit. You hardly opened your blinds, reveling in your misery in the dark. Netflix should have sent you a medal for watching nearly every romcom known to man on their streaming platform, all while sobbing into your ice cream cartons. You deactivated every platform of social media from your phone because you didn’t want to see how happy he was without you and didn’t want to give yourself any opportunities to fall into a deeper spiral of stalking his accounts. You chose to send your liver into an early grave and your bank account into the red with how often you frequented the bars and dives around town, doing your best to forget him.

How he smelled: like burnt sugar and salty caramel. How he tasted. How it felt when he held you in his arms. Like you were the only person he wanted to touch. To kiss. To love.

“Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? In your high heel boots and painted-on jeans, all decked out like a cowgirl's dream. Waltzing right in here lookin' like that. Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? When you could stop traffic in a gunny sack. Why you're almost givin' me a heart attack! When you waltz right in here lookin' like that I just can't stand it. To see him on the town, he's out slow dancing with every girl around. I'm a softhearted woman; he's a hardheaded man, and he's gonna make me feel just as bad as he can. He's got himself a mean streak a half a mile wide Now he's dancing on this heart of mine.”

You feel as if the song is directed at you. Like an evil version of Cupid crawled from the depths of hell just to play with your already broken heart strings. That, or the person singing just had it out for you. Either way, each word hit you like a slap to the face.

“Ooh, Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? In your high heel boots painted-on jeans, all decked out like a cowgirl's dream.Why'd you come in here lookin' like that?”

Tears stung your lower eyelids as the song ended and the crowd exploded in whooping applause.

Maybe whoever just got off the stage was in the same boat as you. Still in the tender stages of a splintered heart, trying to figure out how to put the pieces together. Perhaps that was their way of doing their best to move on and start fresh.

‘We all cope in different ways.’

How had you been coping?

Not well. Not well at all.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

“Darlin’? Darlin’, you still with me?” A gentle shake to your shoulders startles you, causing you to jump a little. Blue retracts her hand. She meekly tips her head. “Sorry to wake you, sweet pea, but I’m nearin’ the end of my shift.”

You yawn, rubbing some of the sleep out of your eyes. “What time is it?”

“Nearly two. You fell asleep about thirty minutes ago.”

You grimace, rolling your neck from side to side. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. If we had a decent taxi service or some type of Lyft or Uber, I would’ve gotten you one a while ago. Let me just get a few of these stragglers and then I’ll take ya on home, okay?”

You yawn again. “Thanks, Blue.”

She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Ain’t nothin’ but a thing.”

“No,” you blurt out. She stops in her tracks and stares at you. “It’s not.”

“It’s just a ride home. I ain’t really doin' much, sweet pea.”

“It is a big thing.” You insist. “It’s a really big thing. Thank you.”

She shakes her head. “No, really, darlin’, it’s--”

“You’re the only person that hasn’t treated me like I’m made of glass.”

There’s a heavy, pregnant pause.

“Well, why on earth would I do that?”

“Because he broke up with me.” Damn you for drinking so much. You always were a bit of a talker when you got more than two sips of alcohol in you. You lost count of how much you consumed this evening, and now you were no better than the town’s gossip columnist who went under the alias of Mount Lady. Here you were, bearing your heart and soul to someone you didn’t even know, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

Blue tilts her head to the side, her eyes searching yours. “Who broke up with you, sweet pea?”

A bitter laugh nearly chokes you as it collides with the sob rising in the back of your throat. The same tears you tried keeping at bay earlier decide to form a prison break and escape the confines of your eyelids, slipping down your cheeks.

“The Great Explosion Murder God of Yuuie, Katsuki Bakugou.”

You weren’t sure if it was the strobe lights coming from the dancefloor or the way your tears caused impairment of your already compromised vision, but you could have sworn in that moment that Blue blanched.

“Ka...Katsuki....Bakugou?”

“Yeah,” you swipe at your eyes with the heel of your hand, sucking snot back in before it could drip from your runny nostrils.

“I’m...I’m so sorry, darlin’.”

She says it with so much sincerity that you know she means it. Truly means it. Not like the other people in town who said it to you so flippantly. No. Blue was different. And maybe that’s why you felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable with her, sans all the alcohol running through your system. Because Blue had something a lot of folks in Yuuie didn’t. A sense of realness.

And that was something you needed right now. A real friend.

“I hate to leave you like this, darlin’, but I gotta finish these orders. Will you be okay for a few minutes by yourself?” Blue apologizes, handing you some napkins. You take one and angrily blow your nose.

“I’ll be fine.”

Blue’s upper teeth knaw at her bottom lip as she looks at you, skepticism written all over her face.

“I promise I’m fine.”

“Okay....I shouldn’t be longer than fifteen minutes. We’ll leave right after that.” She reaches up on the shelf to pull down some beer steins, ready to run them under the taps. Once they were filled to the brim, foam spilling down the sides, Blue slides the beer down to Neijire for her to pass on to the people who ordered them.

“Blue?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Thank you.”

A small burst of air leaves her nose as her face relaxes enough to gift you with a gentle smile. She opens her mouth to reply to you, but the sound of the double Western-style saloon doors draws her from the conversation.

“Welcome!” Blue shouts over her shoulder. “We’re fixin’ to get ready for last call soon. What can I--”

Shattering glass can be heard in the quiet pause between music selections.

“Blue!” Neijire hurries over to her coworker, mindful not to step on the broken pieces. “Are you okay?”

You glance up to see Blue’s wide eyes staring at something behind you. You assume her concerned gaze is directed at whoever just came in. Her skin pales, and you see her visibly gulping. “Oh, sugar honey iced tea...”

Neijire follows her line of sight. Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.

“Uh oh.”

Her eyes dart from you, to behind you, to you, to behind you again. She snatches the towel out of Blue’s hands, firmly shaking her as if trying to snap her out of her daze.

“Blue, you’re shift is over. Go home.” Neijire says in a tone you’ve never heard come from her before. “Tamaki and Mirio can help me with the mess, but you should go. You need to go.”

You stare at the two of them in bewilderment. Why were they looking at you like that?

The stomping of boots encroaches on your space, coming closer with each step.

“Cat got your tongue, dumbass? What the hell are you starin’ at me for?”

All the blood in your body turns to ice at the sound of a gruff, grating voice. One you were all too familiar with. One you hoped you’d never have to hear again. Not since the day he left you in a cloud of dust, never to look back.

Blue is in front of you in a millisecond, seemingly teleporting from one end of the bar to the other. “Hon, I’m clockin’ out now. Grab your stuff and we can go.” Blue reaches under the counter to grab your keys. But you don’t move. You can’t. You’re glued to your seat, your hands shaking.

“Leavin’? I just got here! Neijire, what the hell kinda service is this?” The voice draws closer until it’s directly behind you. A hand slams down on the surface of the counter, right next to you, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. “I swear this town ain’t got nothing fuckin’ going for it anymore.”

You try swallowing, but the lump in your throat won’t allow anything past it. You squeeze your eyes shut.

Don’t look up. Don’t look up. Don’t. Look. Up.

“Service can be refused if the occasion calls for it and the occasion is callin’ for it. My shift is over and I’m headin’ on to the house. You need somethin’ you ask Neijire and you ask her politely.” Blue huffs, irritation and disdain coating every word.

“Who the hell do you think you are? My mother? I already got one old hag harpin’ on me day and night. I don’t need another.”

“I ain’t old and don’t you dare talk about your mama that way, Katsuki Bakugou. I will call her and tell her you’re causin’ trouble again. Don’t think I won’t.”

“Still the same ole’ tattletale, aren’t you, Blue? Even after all these years, you ain’t changed a bit.” He pauses, but you can hear the salacious grin in his tone. “Well, parts of you have.”

A resounding slap echoes in the air and you hear several gasps. Your eyes fly open to see Blue almost climbed over the bar, her arm raised high, palm a burning red. In your peripheral, your ex is hunched over, fingers pressed to the side of his face.

“You don’t know a damn thing about me, Explosion Boy. You never did. Don’t pretend like you do now.” You hear betrayal, hurt, and a slight tremble in her words. You stare at her.

Did they know each other?

But just as you opened your mouth to ask the silent question, the familiar sound of your keys clinking together snags your attention away from the scene unraveling beside you.

“Come on, sugar. I’ll drop you off.” Blue tells you, lifting up the trapdoor of the bar before closing it behind her.

A hand shoots out, clamping down on her upper arm. Her eyes shoot daggers at the person it’s attached to.

“Off in such a hurry, Blue? Always willin’ to start a fight, but ain’t ever willin’ to finish it. I was right. You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Get your hands off me before I have Tetsu knock you on your arrogant, conceited, spoiled little Southern ass.”

“Hah? That extra? Please. He wouldn’t last two seconds.” He tugs on her arm, trying to draw her closer, but his elbow knocks you in the back of the head. You weren’t expecting the impact, so it’s no surprise to you when you fall clean off your barstool.

You crash to the ground in a graceless, drunken fashion. You hear Blue call your name, several people shouting, (all of their insults and anger directed at your ex), and three or more pairs of hands reaching down to help you to your feet. However, one set is faster than the others. Warm calloused fingers encircle your wrist, yanking you up off the floor.

“Don’t toss them around like a ragdoll. Lord above, Bakugou. Sometimes I wonder if you’ve got anything up in that spiky head of yours. Then again, if your brain was leather, you probably wouldn’t have enough to saddle a Junebug.”

“Shut the hell up, you fuckin’ extra.”

“Don’t you swear at me.”

“I’ll do whatever I so fuckin’ please.”

Blue pinches the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. “You could make a bishop mad enough to kick in stained glass windows with that outhouse of a mouth.”

You want to laugh. Really you do. The entire situation is like something you’d read from a tacky fanfiction, or would be a terrible scenario for one of your cheesy romcoms. You’re on the floor while your ex and new friend are above you, bickering back and forth like an old married couple.

It’s like a trashy Southern soap opera. With a Dolly Parton soundtrack to boot.

However, your entire world comes to a standstill when a pair of furious ruby eyes stare into yours.

Katsuki Bakugou.

His forehead is crinkled into those grumpy lines you slowly grew to love, once upon a time. Bits of his hay-colored hair poke out from beneath a black cowboy hat. He’s wearing a dark button-up shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, displaying his muscular arms. A clean pair of Levi’s cling to his legs and ass, perfectly sculpting the body worthy of a mythological god.

So maybe there was some semblance of sense to his rodeo stage name. The god part at least. Because honestly, looking that fine should be considered a sin. You suck in your bottom lip, a not-so-subtle attempt to make sure that you’re not drooling.

Damn, boy.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He all but yells at you, giving you a hard shake.

The lyrics from the song from earlier dance around in your mind as your eyes drift down to his custom-designed cowboy boots. Black with bright orange X’s running across the front of them and olive green grenade emblems stitched to the sides near the top.

Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? In your cowboy boots and your painted-on jeans, all decked out like a cowgirl's dream. Why'd you come in here looking like that?

“Did you hear me, or are you deaf now? I said, what the hell are you doing here?”

Your mouth works faster than your brain.

“Getting over you.”

His eyes widen, and for once in his damn life, he seems at a loss for words.

“W-what?”

“Getting over you. The only way I know how. Because we all cope differently, don’t we, Blue?”

She stares at you with such sadness that it makes you feel guilty for even asking her.

“I cope by drinking myself into oblivion, and you cope by inviting whoever the fuck you want into our bed. Oops. I mean, your bed.” The words are out before you can even process them, and you can’t take them back, even if you wanted to. Because, again, the more you drink, the more you talk.

And you drank quite a bit.

You really, really wish that you had gone through with the plan you first concocted when you first arrived. Because a concussed head was sooooo much better than what you just did. You recall what Blue said the moment that she saw Bakugou enter the bar.

Sugar Honey Iced Tea.

Shit indeed, Blue. Shit indeed.

Bakugou still stares at you, mouth hanging open. You reach over, placing your fingers under his chin, tenderly applying enough pressure that his lips slam together, shutting his mouth. Again, a feat you once thought to be impossible, but hey, you were just full of surprises tonight.

“Trying to catch flies, ‘Suki? It’s easier if you use honey.” You purr, hand falling to his chest. His heart flutters underneath your fingers.

“You drunk or somethin’?” He asks, clearing his throat as pink stains his cheeks.

Giggling, you lean forward, your lips mere inches from his.

“And if I am? What are you gonna do about it?”

His eyes narrow, glaring down at you.

“Alright, I’m breaking this up,” Blue announces, tugging on the sleeve of your shirt.

“Katsuki already did that for you,” you giggle, leaning back to look up at him. “Ain’t that right, ‘Suki? Dropped me like a sack of hot potatoes the moment I was no longer of any value to you.”

Bakugou says nothing, lips pressed into a firm, narrow line.

“Time to go home, sweet pea,” Blue urges you, all but shoving you out the door.

You throw up a casual wave, flipping Bakugou off in the same breath.

“This was fun, ‘Suki, Let’s never do it again.”

And with that, Blue guides you through the double doors, allowing them to swing behind you. Your lungs greedily suck down the cool night air, goosebumps raising on your skin. Your body leans on Blue as she walks you to her truck.

“Almost there, darlin’,” she assures you with each step. Finally, you’re brought to a halt in front of a navy blue Chevy Silverado. But before Blue can even reach over to open the door, you crumple into a sobbing heap. Your knees slam into the broken asphalt, but you barely register the pain.

The agony consuming your heart is enough. And after the scene you caused inside, you only gave the town more ammunition to use against you.

You hated this place. Hated this town. Hated the people in it. Hated him. But most of all, you hated yourself. Hated yourself for still caring about him. For still holding some kind of hope that things would work out and you’d be happy again.

With him. Just the two of you. Like you always wished it would be.

A pair of warm arms wrap around you, and you allow yourself to be held as you finally have the breakdown that’s been building up for the last three months.

“It hurts, Blue,” you blubber into her shoulder. “It hurts...so much.”

“I know, sweet pea. I know. And I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” She whispers, smoothing down your hair. “He was an ass anyway. Always has been.”

“But he was my ass. And I loved him. I loved him. I loved him.” You repeat, clawing at your chest, desperately trying to reach into the hollow activity of your ribcage and rip your heart out in a pitiful attempt to find some relief, hoping that if you were able to do it, it would make the pain go away.

Blue doesn’t have an answer. No magic cure or spell to help you through this.

But she’s there with you.

And that was more than you could have ever asked for.

"Why'd he have to show up like that? All decked out in his fancy boots and favorite button up and that hat. That fuckin' hat, Blue." You ask, salty tears dripping down your chin. "Just when I think 'to hell with him, I deserve more and better,' he waltzes on in like a damn movie star and steals my breath away all over again. Despite everything he's ever done, I love him. And I think part of me always will."

You look up at Blue through your haze of tears.

"Why'd he have to come in there lookin' like that?"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Why'd you come in here lookin' like that? In your cowboy boots and your painted-on jeans, all decked out like a cowgirl's dream. Why'd you come in here looking like that?

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

IT'S DONE. I HAVE FINISHED. I HAVE COMPLETED THE TASK BEFORE ME. ALL HAIL THE EXHAUSTED BLUE PEACH.

Seriously, I am so thankful that I was finally able to finish this request.

It's currently 2 in the morning my time and this entire scenario is probably flaming garbage that resides in a sewage plant because I wrote most of this half asleep. And before you tell me, yes, I am aware that it looks like the spirit of an 1800s author took hold of me and had a field day using commas for ridiculously long sentences. I KNOW.

But I had a lot of fun writing this, and if you don't like it, don't read it. It wasn't for you anyway. 😘

I write for my own pleasure and enjoyment, not for the validation of others.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

This is the first scenario of the Southern Roots Series. I will do my best to update as often as I can but life gets busy so don't expect too much out of me.

I really hope y'all enjoyed and I can't wait to write more.

Later, Taters! 💙💙

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

#southernrootsseries #southern au #country au #cowboy au #bakugou katsuki #why'd you come in here lookin' like that #dolly parton #request #blue answers #blue writes

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lexsnotdead · 8 months

Note

Sometimes i forget that Delilah/Breanna aren't 100% canon to everyone bc of "ambiguous relationship" part and some people not wanting to see them as bi & lesbian

And it drives me insane

Everytime i see fic where Delilah or Breanna call each other friends while being alone (or in their own thoughts) I want to bite 😭😭 Something or someone

I sit here and think "Breanna sacrificing 10+ years or her life to save Delilah from her death AND falling on her knees for her is so friendly fr"

I'm okay with people who think that they're way too toxic or something/"Delilah can't love" but Breanna is a walking fruit basket. She radiates "gay".

~~~~~~~~

Sorry for whole essay about Bree and Del but my anonymous ass trusts that you'd understand me at least to some degree bc you ship them

Hope ur doing well, sending best wishes for the week lol

HI ANON YOU CANNOT IMAGINE THE AMOUNT OF SEARCHING I DID FOR THIS. anyway. okay... deep breath... yeah, i know, it drives me insane as well. although i haven't come across a Hot Take like that in ages, most likely because i was blocking on sight for this. "not 100% canon to everyone" have we played the same game? maybe it's easy for me to say because i myself am a wlw and i KNOW yuri when i see one. it is really hard for me to imagine how can one look at the way breanna and delilah talk to each other and fail to spot the profound pinning.

• delilah saying "murderer! you can't understand what she meant to me", when you kill breanna in front of her. • delilah saying "you're the only one i trust". • delilah swinging her sword at you with "this is for what you did to breanna", in the last mission. • a with in the royal conservatory saying "breanna was with delilah when you were sucking on your mother's tit. it's not a joke to them" • breanna's surprise when she spots corvo "a man? here?!" is truly a Peak Lesbian Moment. - i could go on and on.

OHHH AND THE LETTER. THE LETTER!! it makes me lose my mind every time i read it!! whatever breanna had going on in there is more lesbian than eating pussy.

"When we can't talk, I write. There are things only you will understand. (...) If we were together, I could say more! It is as if I can see beyond the air, into another time or place. (...) Oh, Delilah, strange and beautiful whispers are carried on the breeze. I am forever grateful of being your instrument." >>> i'm madly in love with you.

how can you read this and go hmm yeah they were definitely besties! MUST EVERYTHING BE DIRECT FOR YOU PEOPLE?? sorry to disappoint, but that's not how sapphics express attraction. learn to read between the lines. because this, too, is yuri.

and the wiki page is to blame for the "ambiguous" part. BECAUSE HARVEY SMITH DIDN'T SAY "AMBIGUOUS". HE DID NOT. harvey confirmed their relationship some time back in 2016, but since then he deleted all of his tweets and we were left with no elaboration. and as for now it is almost impossible to find sources. "almost". he-he. wink. i saved that from a tumblr post god knows how long ago and couldn't find the op. if anyone knows who to credit for this, i'd be grateful.

does "i totally assumed that" equal uncertainty? maybe my non-native ass is missing something, but it all seems very clear to me.

which makes "some people not wanting to see them as bi & lesbian" part even more frustrating. they are both indisputably queer! and that being stated by the dev and not in the game itself is not an excuse to deny their sexuality and ship breanna with men.

harvey's tweet and in-game lines combined should be enough evidence to prove that delilah and breanna were, in fact, lovers, and if anyone says otherwise, it's a conscious choice to deny/ignore it for whatever reasons, not because there isn't enough evidence for their relationship. believe me, anon, i share every drop of irritation you have in double.

and "delilah can't love" is another very big topic where i could talk for hours and i would rather not make this reply any longer than it has to be. i already ranted quite a lot here haha. anyway, ty for the ask! :] i'm always happy to write mini-essays about delilah and breanna. i hope you have a great day as well!!

#historians will say that they were best friends #lex.txt

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nyoomerr · 2 months

Text

tagged for the 'fic writer interview' by @mikkeneko! thanks for thinking of me, hopefully i have something interesting to share in it 🙈

Fic Writer Interview

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

21! the bingplush fic this last week finally pushed me over the edge of the page limit, i no longer have only a single page of fic!!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

440,163

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

every time i post a fic i hope to somehow oust 'to love another' from that #1 spot... every time i know it'll never happen :'D

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

every one i get, for the most part! i never want to take for granted the people who support me, and making sure i actually sit down and take the time and effort to respond to comments is, i've found, the best way for me to do that.

that being said, there are exceptions. i generally don't respond to criticism, general negativity, comments that don't really seem to be... about the fic, or comments that have a grammar correction and nothing else 😅

5. What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

'raised by winter winds' or 'you don't need poltergeists for sidekicks' - both have bittersweet endings, which is the closest i'll ever get to an unhappy end, LOL.

6. What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

discounting the short fics i've done that are just slice of life / domestic bliss for bingqiu, probably 'shallow water weather.' as happy an ending as any of my stuff, but with none of the angst to get there 😂

7. Do you write crossovers?

nope, and generally don't plan to. even the AUs i do, i prefer to put them in a generic or original world than the world of another story.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

oh sure, law of large numbers and all that. the truly nasty hate, i just delete. generally i'd prefer to just ignore it, honestly, because i think deleting a comment is also a form of engagement with the hate that i don't necessarily want to give to the person who left it, but...

based on past experience, leaving the comment up and unanswered seems to invite other readers to engage with the hate in whatever way /they/ choose, and i really don't want to accidentally be the facilitator of a conflict :'D

9. Do you write smut?

nope, and i've learned to put that disclaimer in the notes of longfic i write 😅

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

ehhh not in this fandom (that i'm aware of), but i have had a translator go rogue - which is why i currently only allow translations of my fics to be posted on ao3 only.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

several times, + some podfics! outside of the odd occurrence mentioned above, they've all been wonderful opportunities. i have massive respect for everyone who spends time making fics more accessible to others!

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no, and i feel like i'd be too picky to do so 😅 collabs in other ways - minibangs with artists, inspiration train games, etc - are all fun though, and i enjoy them!

13. What's your all-time favorite ship?

whichever version of bingqiu/binggeyuan ends up with lbh at his soggiest and most pathetic

14. What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

i have a post canon bingliushen fic that's been sitting in my WIPs for... over two years? i like the idea of it a lot and think parts of it would be very fun!

unfortunately, though, i like bingliushen because i like bingqiu and i like liushen and i think that sqq has two hands. this does not lend itself well to writing fic where bingliushen get together, since every time i try to work on this WIP the focus keeps turning to trying to get lbh and lqg to coexist well enough to allow bingliushen... and sadly i'm just not really into bingliu :')

15. What are your writing strengths?

i think i do humor and dialogue well enough! it always makes me happy to hear that my fic made someone laugh :>

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

although i think i'm alright at writing angst, i do think i have a tendency to resolve it too quickly/easily. i personally really do not enjoy fics where angst gets dragged on for awhile, and i know that this preference affects the pacing of my own angst in a way that perhaps puts me too far on the other side of the spectrum, lmao.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i'm not sure what this is actually referring to, honestly 😅 i guess i use italics for that...?

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

attack on titan (please forgive me for my crimes)

19. What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

although i do have that aforementioned WIP, i really do want to actually finish a bingliushen fic... maybe i just need to give up and write a sqq harem fic like the old fandom days 😂

20. What's your favorite fic you've written?

generally, whatever fic i wrote 2-3 fics ago 😂 i tend to be offput by my most recent work, so work that i've had some space from but is still recent enough to reflect my current preferences and skills is what i always consider my favorite. right now, either rent a bingge or the sy!shixiong au!

and that's all the questions! i won't tag anyone 'cuz i'm a bit shy about that sort of thing, so anyone who wants to do it can take this as your invitation to do so!

#thanks for tagging me!#nyoomerr rambles

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stormyweaver · 4 months

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Sometimes in my head I'm like 'This needs to be said' and other times I'm like 'nah just leave it be'. Not sure which one this time is but... I rarely censor myself on this blog anyway.

It's not even like a huge take really? It's just that one of the reasons I stopped posting/interacting on here was that a lot of people I used to talk to often had unfriended and blocked me, or just deleted their blogs for one reason or another (valid to both btw. Sometimes life happens.) I was feeling really down about the former though. I struggle a lot with maintaining any relationships, platonic or otherwise. So I'm always left thinking 'Ah I did XYZ yep I am a horrible piece of trash'. Which... I'm not.

I'm not a bad person. I'm a human, and I think people like... forget sometimes that even though we can't see each other, stuff does affect each other. I don't blame people for deciding to unfriend/block/whatever if they have a gripe with me. If it happens then it is what it is, but it def sticks with me bc I'll never know exactly what I did for that to happen. BUT as one of my favorite shows growing up has taught me: You can be the nicest, coolest, kindest person out there, and someone will STILL not like you. That's just how life is.

Now onto the positive: I have so, SO many valuable friends from this kink and I'm always so grateful to have them in my life. Is the fear there that one day I'll fuck up or they'll get tired of me and leave present? Absolutely. But I'm learning to just enjoy the ride for as long as I can, and if life or whatever else decides that we part ways, it doesn't need to be a tragedy. I can and will continue to try and be as true to myself as possible.

Anyway idk what this post is really meant to accomplish. I think it's more of a... it's something for me to see and realize how much I've grown over the years, not just on snzblr or even tumblr itself. I'm always gonna be a sensitive person but, I think I'm learning how to not beat myself up so much behind the scenes. And to remember that there are people here who love/appreciate me, even when my mind tries to tell me it's not true.

That being said, I def wanna try and be more active on here, even if I'm not in the most popular fandom or newest shiny thing. 'Cause I enjoy sharing with other people. I genuinely do. Not promising anything certain but, if it happens it happens.

#greyrambles;#not snz #yeah idk i always get in these moods of introspection #is that a word... sure it is #it is NOW LOL #greysdiary;

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jaggedwolf · 8 months

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TSCOSI Ficlets #5

Waking up in the body of your AU self

Sana woke with a cough. That and the clanging of metal was almost loud enough to camouflage the small voice going "oh, fuck." It took only a second of steady breathing to place the voice as Violet's and another of opened eyes to spot her.

Sana may have been the one lying on the med bay cot, but Violet was the one who looked wrong - a ponytail her hair should be too short for, Arkady's IGR guard jacket instead of her own sweater or crew jacket.

"Captain Tripathi." One of Violet's hands was shoved into her jacket pocket, an upturned chair behind her. There was an intensity to Violet's gaze that didn't seem entirely medical. She'd seen Violet calmer when faced with an actively bleeding patient.

No blood here, only a growing headache. "Violet, an update? Last thing I remember is piloting the ship. How long was I out for?"

"Less than an hour." Violet frowned. "I-I had to shift here to monitor you."

The door slid open with a beep, Arkady striding through. At least she looked as Sana expected, tank and tactical pants and close-cropped hair.

"Thought I told you to comm me as soon as she woke up, Liu." Arkady glowered as she leant back against the end of the cot.

"It hasn't been that long." Sana lightly nudged the small of Arkady's back with her foot. "I'm sure Violet was about to."

Arkady froze. Something sick curled in Sana's gut at how Arkady's shoulders relaxed once Sana jerked her foot away. It curled tighter at the wary looks Violet and Arkady traded.

"I was," Violet finally said. "Your scans were normal, Captain. It could've been simple dehydration."

"Dehydration." Arkady crossed her arms, apparently ending whatever shared moment they'd had. "Seriously?"

"Why exactly would I lie, First Mate Patel?" snapped Violet, shoulders hunched. "I know it wouldn't end well."

Arkady made a sound of frustration. "Wasn't an accusation." She stepped in between Violet and Sana, making eye contact with the latter. "Wasn't. I was the only one near you when you fainted. Anyway, need anything else from Liu?"

"No?" Sana's headache wasn't subsiding, but if asking for painkillers would trigger more of whatever she witnessed, she'd rather hold out.

"Great!" Arkady swept Violet out the medbay with an unexpected swiftness, though Sana caught sight of Arkady scanning something to open the door. Shit. That was the final straw. You didn't lock exits on a ship.

Only an hour, impossible. Who's turned her crew against her and each other? Who's managed to turn Arkady against her? Made them willing to keep her prisoner on her own ship?

Arkady must have noticed her growing panic, because she approached the cot with her hands up and a grin that didn't reach her eyes. "Captain, it's Liu. She's completely harmless. Even if she wasn't"-Arkady snorts-"she knows you've got eyes and automated systems on every part of this ship."

Arkady jerked her head towards a table where a tablet and gun lay. "Everyone else has been at their stations. Jeeter's in his room, and Krejjh is sha-"

"You left a gun here?" asked Sana. The tablet unlocked itself at Sana's touch, displaying a single camera feed of the mess hall. A swipe showed the airlock. Another Violet walking down a corridor. Another a small bedroom.

"Already feeling good enough to test me, Sana?" Arkady's fingers twitched. She tapped the single holster on her hip, no others to be seen (how had Sana missed that, she shouldn't have missed that.) Arkady forced her grin wider. "Come on, we solved my little paranoia problem ages ago, right?"

"Right," said Sana, letting the instinct to reassure her best friend take over as the full realization of what she held in her hands hit her.

Sana wasn't the prisoner of this ship. She was its warden.

Salacious Rumors

elionated: hey hey hey GossipGeneral57: No. elionated: but whyyyyyyy elionated: how could you betray me so, best of friends and best of admins? GossipGeneral57: You could file an appeal via the link on the deleted thread. GossipGeneral57: I would reject it, of course GossipGeneral57: This is a *celebrity* gossip board, the FAQ specifically outlines the requirements for discussing someone.

elionated: yeah well your requirements are dumb if people dubbing some dwarnian soap opera count as celebs and not the FRICKIN CREW OF THE RUMOR elionated: do you have any idea how much time I spent putting together that post? gathering theories from all over the net? listening to those reports? elionated: my post had citations man, mr yusof would be proud GossipGeneral57: I don't want to think about our old lit teacher reading your list of crew combinations ordered by how likely they are to be sleeping together.

elionated: so you read it then? :D GossipGeneral57: Obviously. It was one of your posts, after all elionated: :D GossipGeneral57: I have qualms on ranking (3) there. I think (4) and perhaps even (5) are likelier candidates given the opportunity of time.

elionated: are u kidding me what about my evidence GossipGeneral57: You mean the part where you came very close to breaking our doxxing rules via a partially covered profile screenshot that as you said, proves "she's okay with sharing"? elionated: research! the very bedrock of this board! GossipGeneral57: The name and anagrams of it aren't even particularly unique. elionated: gotta give the people whatever i can find

elionated: you know who else might have an opinion on this? the other people who left comments before you DELETED all my hard work GossipGeneral57: You always have backups. GossipGeneral57: I would also like the board to not get purged via government order elionated: ugh fine elionated: i guess if we're all gonna die in some dumb war i'd rather be able to post gossip during

GossipGeneral57: ...I don't have objections to discussing this topic in our encrypted messages, however elionated: ha I KNEW IT elionated: ok who do you think is banging other than the obvs GossipGeneral57: Hold on, I'm pulling up your list again and-seriously, the entire crew? Didn't Mr Yusof also cover not taking giant inferential leaps? GossipGeneral57: (Mr Yusof I'm so sorry) elionated: you gotta read the archive on the structure of dwarnian emrehs, the one in footnote 11 elionated: i'm just saying that krejjh seems like they'd be all about sharing cultural traditions ;)

Awkward Comfort

“There’s nothing to be done,” Park says, and he knows it’s a mistake as soon as the words leave him. Foolish, foolish, foolish.

Captain Tripathi doesn’t snap at him. Instead, she lets out a shaky sigh, head leaned back against the wall that separates her from the medbay where Patel’s fighting for her life, Liu and McCabe doing their level best to help her.

Park needs - wants? - to expend at least a similar level of effort in monitoring the captain. He has never seen (or heard) her so unsettled, or so despairing. He sits down next to her on the hallway floor. The movement is not very graceful, and something in his right knee twinges.

“You’re not wrong,” the captain finally says. Her voice is as wry as ever, but with none of its usual mirth. “The time to do something would have been before leading Arkady to an ambush.”

“Captain Tripathi,” Park reasons, “with the intelligence we had, we all thought the deal was legitimate. There was no way we could have-”

Her gaze turns steely. “My best friend got really hurt because of that ‘legitimate deal’, forgive me if I’m not in the mood for IGR-standard ass-covering.”

Park flinches.

“Park-that wasn’t fair of me. It’s-”

“No,” Park interrupts against his instincts, fingers curling around his scarred knee, “I think that’s a fair assessment.”

He pauses for a moment, turning his next words over in his head. He often wishes Shelly was with him on this strange turn his life had taken, but especially now, when she would’ve at least gotten some joy out of his struggles to offer comfort, if not having any advice of her own.

Park slowly says, “I also believe my ass-covering to be accurate as well. Not even Patel could blame you.”

Captain Tripathi snorts. “You did a poor job listening in if you thought Arkady wouldn’t be the last person to blame me.”

“She has some degree of self-preservation. And an excellent medic working on her.” Park thinks back to the few files he’d dug up on Liu’s time by O-11, the hours of work rewarded with little actionable intelligence. “If there was a warning sign, I’m sure Patel will regale us on the matter when she recovers.”

“She would.” The captain shakes her head. “She will. I’m going to stick around out here, Park, but you don’t have to.”

“Is there something that needs to be done elsewhere?” An easy opening for her to dismiss him. He rather hopes she doesn’t. Getting up would be a far less graceful process than sitting down. Worse yet, Park finds he doesn’t like the idea of her waiting alone, even if the alternative is his stilted company.

“No.” Sana’s eyes focus on him. He has the uncanny feeling she’s figured out something about him. “Not at all.”

Mundane AU

"It can't be that bad, dude," said Brian, sounding very reasonable as he took a sip of his hot chocolate. "Wasn't it already kinda bad?"

"Yes." Violet stared out the cafe window. The bright sunlight only aggravated her hangover, but it was far too late for her to hide from the day. "I also thought the week couldn't get worse than the department chair telling me that the direction of my dissertation was completely pointless. While my advisor said nothing."

Brian winced, even though she'd already told him this. He had his own horror stories about grad school, from before he'd dropped out. But that wasn't why Violet had texted him this morning.

"What happened?" asked Brian. "Did your advisor say something?"

"No," said Violet, almost wishing she had. "Your friends, the ones I met last night?"

"Arkady and Sana, yeah." Brian grins. "It seemed like you three hit it off. Sorry Krejjh and I had to head out early, moving has us beat."

"We did," admitted Violet. "After the bar, they showed me the flower shop and tattoo parlor." She grimaced. "I think I drank too much - I vaguely remember them insisting on walking me home?"

"Dude, that doesn't seem like that big a deal," said Brian. "Arkady's had to sleep it off on our couch plenty of times."

Violet cut to the chase. "Brian, when I woke up today, there was a bouquet of flowers on the nightstand. And next to it, a sketch of a tattoo design."

"Tattoos like the kind you swore off forever?" joked Brian, who had heard all about the very ill-advised hip tattoo decisions Violet had made in undergrad.

"It, um." Violet blushed. "It incorporated my current one. It actually made it look pretty good? The point is, I texted them this morning. Only I...thanked Sana for the flowers, and Arkady for the tattoo design."

"You didn't," protests Brian.

"I did. I didn't even realize until they texted me back." She leaned across the table to show him their replies. (Sana: You should thank Arkady for those! :D, Arkady: uh what liu? think you meant to text tripathi)

The disbelief was evident in Brian's eyes. "I introduced you guys to each other, Violet."

"Yeah, and you said 'this is Sana and Arkady, they run the flower shop and the tattoo parlor down on Rumor Street'. You never actually said who ran what!"

"You were in their shops!"

"We didn't actually talk about work that much. And they kept bouncing ideas off each other, I just thought they knew each other that well."

"Well, they do," said Brian, frowning. "But Sana's tattoos!"

"What about them?" asked Violet, taking a big gulp of her coffee.

"Isn't the woman with tattoo sleeves more likely to be the tattoo artist?"

"Arkady has a tattoo too, a number on her shoulder," argued Violet. Embarrassed, she mumbled her next defense. "I...thought of that puzzle. You know, the one where a town only has two barbers and-"

"-and you have to pick which one to get a haircut from, and one of them has a great haircut while the other one doesn't?" Brian's face lights up in recognition and amusement. "Kinda only applies in a town that only has two barbers, Violet. I think Sana got hers before she even moved here?"

"I probably seem like a complete idiot," said Violet, fidgeting with the handle of her mug. "Or worse."

"I don't think they'll hold it against you." Brian glanced at his phone after it lit up with a notification, smiling at whatever it was. "Not their style."

Wrist Kisses

When Violet returned to Arkady's room, her first order of business was falling back on the bed. Her second was a bone-deep sigh.

A snort of amusement came from where Arkady's desk stood. "Another talk-through?"

"Yeah." Violet closed her eyes. She would be eternally grateful for Dr Robinson's crash course. But the universe was still short on doctors, let alone non-IGR ones, and Violet hadn't helped that shortage when she'd decided to leave Telemachus for a spot on Sana's new ship. The least she could do was consult over calls. It meant squinting through poor video and only being able to offer her words, not her work.

She didn't mind. Even for the worst of those calls, she'd found it terrifying and satisfying and thrilling all at once. She hardly knew which of those were the best ways to feel.

"Bad call?" asked Arkady. Closer, this time.

"No, just some long ones."

Arkady hummed in acknowledgement. Violet blinked her eyes open in time to find Arkady hovering over her, the mattress sinking a little deeper with their combined weight. She grasped Arkady's face in her hands. Ran her thumb over the short hairs around Arkady's ears. It was grounding, holding Arkady, in a way that made Violet feel uncomfortably selfish.

"Sorry," said Violet, "I was planning on showering before I swung by."

"Yeah, Liu, you're absolutely filthy from uh, spending all day talking to people. Really contaminating my room," teased Arkady, who then turned her head to press a slow kiss to Violet's left wrist.

"I could go shower now." Violet shifted her arm to give Arkady better access. "There's still time before dinner."

Arkady shook her head, and responded between kisses that made their way up (or was it down?) Violet's arm. "Well, you've already ruined the sheets. We shouldn't waste it."

#now in 2023 #tscosi #starship iris #ficlets #sana tripathi #park and sana #violet and arkady #violet liu #vas

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bedlamsbard · 1 year

Note

1, 21, 13 for the choose violence

1. the character everyone gets wrong

STEVE ROGERS. There's an overwhelming tendency to smooth down Steve's sharp edges and generally make him softer, sweeter, gentler, more innocent. This man is all sharp edges and while he's not always going to push himself past his limits, when he's holding himself back from them you can tell and it's -- it's very weird to see. It's most common in the ensemble films, like Avengers and AoU and Endgame, there's this air of like...restraint? And then the sharp edges come out when he gets too tired of holding himself back. One of my favorite Steve scenes is in CATWS, during the fight with Batroc, because it's a perfect kernel of Steve characterization. Not just the on va voir part, but the actual fight itself.

But also, like, Steve is mad ALL THE TIME. He's probably the angriest character in the MCU, Bruce Banner included. It's true from CATFA onwards. (I talk about his anger in CATFA a little in Horizon, so I won't reiterate it here.) I see Steve as someone who's always struggled with depression, and his anger is part of that, because he does have those lightning flickers from being functionally depressed and going through the motions to suddenly being blindingly, furiously angry -- Avengers is the most obvious example of this, but it turns up in AoU, CATWS, and CACW too; I don't think he ever hits angry in Endgame, though. He's functionally depressed but there's nothing in that film that kicks him into the anger side of it. (Caveat: my specific brainweasels function this way, which is why I read Steve's as doing so.)

also, uh, here is probably the really controversial read on Steve: there's a tendency in this fandom to give credit for anything and everything Steve does to his feelings about Bucky, and I don't...think that's true. yes, Steve cares a lot about Bucky, but it's a huge disservice to his character to say that Steve only went to Krausberg for Bucky or that he only crashed the Valkyrie because of Bucky or that he only destroyed SHIELD/HYDRA for Bucky or that he was only opposed to the Accords because of Bucky. sure, Bucky is a factor in most of those situations, but Steve would have done all of them anyway. give the man some credit for his own agency!

21. part of canon you think is overhyped

outside of this side of the fandom, probably Endgame, but that's a given. on the Tumblr/AO3 side of the fandom I don't think that's true at all lol.

in this side of the fandom -- uh, Thor, the first one. I've been going through Phase 1 lately and the first Thor film, which a lot of Thor and Loki fans I know feel very strongly about, is a chopped up mess -- I think it's the only film in the MCU that really, really suffers from having its deleted scenes removed, but even with those it's trying to do too many things at the same time and it can't give any of them enough space, plus its Asgard design is a hot mess -- TDW and later Ragnarok had to essentially bend over backwards to fix it. It does a lot of things very well, but it also does a lot of things not well at all. The Thor films are all inconsistent across the board, though; it's the weakest line in the entire MCU.

13. worst blorboficiation

I have THREE answers for this, all of which are bad in their specific ways, but for absolute worst: Tony Stark. I like Tony! He actually is a character I like! He is also super fucked up in ways that Tony fans just ignore or soften or whatever; the weirdest part to me is the desire to make Tony a ~soft dad to Peter, Shuri, Loki, Nebula...Morgan sometimes. This man took a fifteen-year-old kid to Germany to fight Captain America without telling him why, y'all. what about that says "good father figure" to you. he's also brutal to Bruce in IW.

the other two answers are Peggy Carter and Loki, which are pretty self-evident. I think I'd also actually put Natasha on this list, too, because she's another character who people really want to soften.

#thelurkinglark #bedlam replies #bedlam watches the mcu

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a-dumbass-jester · 10 months

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Og post Im just going into detail^^

OK so I started tjis like over a year ago and i never put my thoughts down anywhere and at some point I lost my yttd hyper fixation and is now violently regaining it so some stuff might be a bit inaccurate

————

{Human to doll}

I came up with tjis hc/theory of how the human dummies and doll dummies are the same because:

One(1): tragedy and angst

Two(2): I didn’t rlly like that fact that they were two completely separate people (especially clones) so this somehow became a tjing

OK SO, right after the human dummies died Midori (being Midori) was like “hm I wanna see if I can transfer their human souls/ ghost/ spirit into their doll copy”

and then he did and because it’s asunaro it somehow works

Before the AIs were put in the dolls they were conscious but just couldn’t move without the ai put in.

Because the AIs gave them the ability to move and do basically everything their souls attached itself to the ai

(PLEASE bear with me)

As for Hinako I don’t rlly know how exactly she becomes a doll but I assume asunaro has a doll (and ai) copy of her (because why not) and Midori did a similar thing to her but her doll was like underneath the coffin or smth

Summary: the dummies human soul was transferred their doll copy after they died (all six(6) of them) and it latched onto the AIs

————

{how their all "alive"/ together}

OK so this whole thing centers around kurumada being the dummie that is still alive so he can miss the others and ask to see their AIs

Because everyone remembers everything and because everything asunaro rebuilds their dolls

This is also for selfish reasons to because they’ve literally gone from being human to doll and can and have experience the differences and uses them (as much as they hate it) as test subjects to test differences

Summary: kurumada is the only dummie left alive and he missed the others a lot so he asked so see their AIs

Asunaro then rebuilds their dolls after the death game

————

Most of this ending actually focuses of after the game

Human dolls

Ok so most of the time after the game they stay at asunaro because:

One(1): their like legally (and physically) dead

Two(2): they’re dolls. They wouldn’t age , I would be weird if someone just stopped aging(ESPECIALLY the kids). They’re made of plastic so if anyone got hurt they would just crack (especially kurumada with him being a boxer)

So most they just stayed with asunaro

Sleeping(even though they don’t need to any more) in the rooms the participants slept in in chapter 2

Also since they would be staying there for god knows how long asunaro let them customize the rooms however they’d like

Also because Asunaro kinda did:

- Kill them

- Stuff them into dolls

- Take away any life or future they would’ve had

- Keep them here

(-experiment on them)

So asunaro’s kinda like “yeaaa, Soooorrryyyy about that” and like lets them to whatever they want. They’ll also like get them stuff from the store or smth if they want.

————

Floormasters

OK SO tjis part is basically like 100 years later of smth, Sara (who won and took over asunaro) has died and asunaro did another death game to have someone take her place.

The dummies were used as floormasters because:

One(1): The irony of having people who were victims of the last death game and turned in the ones in charge

Two(2): They didn’t rlly have anyone else so they just went with them

So asunaro whipped their memories, messed with their heads and personality’s and turned them into floormasters

(I have entire designs(kinda) and concepts on what they would be and look like)

————

Finally resting

So after they’re back to normal, and the new participants find out about all of this they set a plan to finally free the dummies and let them rest

The participants delete their AIs from the database(?) and set their dolls on fire so their no longer attached to their AIs and can be freed.

————

Ok!!! So there is that!!

Hope you enjoyed, i guess!!

This sounds kinda bad written but here I guess

I wrote this at like 3/4 am

#the dumbass speaks #your turn to die #yttd #yttd dummies #ranmaru kageyama #mai tsurugi #naomichi kurumada #anzu kinashi #hinako mishuku #shunsuke hayasaka #yttd human dolls ending

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ceruleancattail · 11 months

Note

For 'The Faded Moon' I offer up my oc Yumena (unfortunately I can't send a drawing since I deleted all the ones I had of her 🥲)

She's a fully grown kitsune (contrary to her younger, three tailed counterpart) who enjoys luring men into the circus and letting Idia do whatever he wishes with them after. She also loves to cast illusions on unsuspecting visitors that unintentionally - on their part - leads them into the circus.

After that, if she finds the visitor beautiful enough, they have the honour of being immortalised as a doll in her collection. She loves beautiful things after all, especially the shade of red a human's blood makes ❤️

Relationships with characters? She's in an established relationship with Idia and is good friends with Vil. Though Vil could do without her constantly bothering him into becoming one of her dolls, she thinks it's the highest honour. To be immortalised by an all powerful kitsune, what a dream.

(p.s I'll probs add a drawing of her in this au someday...who knows)

(to summarize; her love for beauty is taken to the extreme, and so is her bloodlust and magic prowess)

The chamber of mirrors was a popular attraction back in the day. Walls after walls of reflections, a thousand versions of a person. From every corner, every angle.

Careful now, or you’ll crash into a wall, bruising your skin with a wonderful shade of blue and black. Spotting your skin, throbbing with a dull ache.

Before, there would be staff stationed at various spots in the maze. They’ll help those stuck, guiding them to the exit. Yet as the circus fell into disrepair, the maze was abandoned like the rest.

Well, you couldn’t blame Yumena for claiming the maze. The poor thing was falling apart, after all. Such a pity that the hall of mirrors will never again reflect another person’s terror stricken face. It’ll be a shame if she couldn’t utilise the facilities available to her.

A twinkling, enchanting laugh. Locks of hair flowing down her shoulders, gently swaying with her every move. Stretching out a palm, her slender fingers curl upwards invitingly.

Come on, follow her.

Fluttering her eyelashes, she’ll slip away, geta clicking against the ground. Her tails swish, clearing a path for the poor soul to follow. Lingering around corners, just to vanish when the person gets too close. Beauty, just barely out of their reach.

She’ll slip into the hall of mirrors, waiting for the poor fools to follow her in. They almost always do, trailing after her like a lost child. Suckered by her beauty. Never truly realising the sinister being that lurked underneath her porcelain skin.

Every rose must have its thorns, just as how every fox has its claws. Her giggles echo throughout the halls, mirrors shifting around with rusty creaks, the maze rearranging itself over and over again. No matter how many twists and turns they make, they’ll never leave.

Poor, poor miserable souls.

Stuck in her paradise.

Let Yumena put you out of your misery.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #disney twisted wonderland #the faded moon #thanks for participating!#I hope you like this WJWNWJWKJW

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yepthisiskay · 9 months

Text

My thoughts on game theories video about generation loss.

Please note this is all my opinion aswell as using factual evidence from the streams itself. Because unlike matpat I actually acknowledged the existence of the mind control mask Ranboo wore. Please don’t send hate to anyone this is just me kinda going over stuff and being like ?!?!? Towards things Mattpat says.

Also I would like to note that Mattpat not once uses He/they pronouns when referring to Ranboo. I will. If I’m quoting Mattpat however I’ll use whatever Mattpat used.

1. “Ranboo is the founder”

What?!?!? There is so much evidence against this theory. Everything mattpat said about Ranboo finding things or doing things can be proven wrong by watching even 5 seconds of generation loss. Mattpat stated a couple times that Ranboo needed the show to keep going so he kept making choices.

One of the examples Mattpat used was when they picked the code. And the audience picked one code and ranboo picked another. That was the first time that Ranboo had ever gotten a choice obviously they aren’t going to listen to other people when they have the ability to choose. The lien control mask the audience was the whole reason Ranboo had no choice. The moment the mask “shut off” they got a choice.

2. The mischaracterization of Ranboo.

At one point in the video Mattpat said that Ranboo died in a cross like pose because “he believes he is the savior of our sins” Mr Mattpat did you not watch the same video as me. Ranboo was begging and crying and pleading for the audience to kill them. They didn’t want to die for our sins as you said they wanted to die to finally escape they wanted freedom and death was the closest they would get to it.

3. “Fake”

Mattpat goes on to compare generation loss something fake to a real life experiment. He says that in the experiment they would do fake shocks anytime a person got the Question wrong then Mattpat goes on to explain how ranboos death was fake. Please note Ranboo in a later stream we’re they went over all the generation loss stuff and explained some things stated that his character had died. The hero is dead.

4. The hero

Mattpat explains something about Ranboo being the hero cause he is the founder. I don’t even know. Ranboo was portrayed as the hero because the hero is the most important character and show fall wants Ranboo to be seen as that and nothing more.

5. Those cutaway scenes where they interviewed happened after the show ended.

What? No. I like to believe that the cutaway interviews aren’t actually that big that you need to psychoanalyze analyze and they are just there to make it funnier. The whole first episode is supposed to be this funny comedy show type vibe. They have a cooking show. The cutaways add to the funny comedy vibe of the whole first episode. That’s one at mean they are still alive.

6. Founders cut.

This theory isn’t bad. I actually like the idea of after the founders cut being released the other gods get deleted or whatever. But instead of Ranboo being the one to do it like Mattpat says it’s generation loss trying to cover up their tracks.

7. The mask

Not once does Mattpat talk about the mask which is an important part of the story. It messes with ranboos perception of reality showing them things that isn’t really there watering down things. Making things less scary while at the same time making it so Ranboo can’t react. Ranboo basically becomes an Npc at one point while the mask is in control because he almost stumbled upon something they weren’t supposed to.

Overall however Mattpat is heavily wrong and needs to either remake the video or just take it down entirely. For this little ramble I didn’t do any research I simply used my memory from watching the gods and completely disregarded anything he said. He is wrong. And if Ranboo reacts to the video I’d giggle.

#generation loss #ranboo #mattpatt #game theory #Ramble #don’t send hate

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jgmartin · 10 months

Text

MONSTERCALL

The Dark Web.

The name itself is a meme. It’s become the boomer boogeyman, the back alley of the internet where you go to get your kidneys harvested and sold off to a billionaire’s all-you-can-torture buffet. It’s the skeezy part of town. The no man’s land of the digital world, chock-full of society’s most vile scum.

It’s also pretty boring.

See, the dark web isn’t that much different than the surface web. Sure, it has a cooler name and better privacy, but most people use it for the same shit. Social media? Check. Shopping? Check. Pirating movies? Duh. Did you know Facebook exists on the dark web? You do now.

My parents are terrified of the dark web. They speak about it in hushed breaths, sort of like Ron Weasley talks about Lord Voldemort. It’s as though they think uttering its name too loudly will invoke the wrath of some serial hacker, just waiting in the wings to delete their bank accounts.

Ridiculous, right? I told them they were paranoid. To prove them wrong, I even downloaded the Tor browser and uninstalled Chrome. There’s nothing to fear on the dark web, I said, so long as you’ve got half a brain’s worth of sense in you.

Now, I’m not so sure.

Now, I wish I could take it all back.

I stumbled across the website after a night of drinking. I’d been out with Jared, my best friend since childhood, reminiscing about the good old days of driving Mrs. Crabtree up the wall. When I got home, I felt a bit nostalgic so I went digging for old pictures on Facebook. Like most drunk missions, one thing led to another, and I landed on an old thread listing the most exciting websites on the darkweb.

Spooky, right?

Well, most were fairly vanilla. Some free textbooks here, a bit of hacked video games there. I scrolled down through the responses until I found one buried beneath the others. It had just a single upvote.

I stared at the link for a few seconds, then cracked a fresh beer and said fuck it.

The website was plain, mostly white text on a black background. Across the top was a banner emblazoned with the words CALL YOUR MONSTERS. I cracked a grin. It was kind of cute, in an edgelord, emo kid sort of way.

After clicking through a few menu links, I landed on the ORDER A MONSTER page. It said that, for $99, they would deliver a personalized monster to a doorstep of my choice. Free shipping, too. The flavor text read:

Perfect for getting even with terrible bosses, backstabbing friends, and childhood enemies!

I laughed. The idea was absolute gold. They even had a Monster Call Guarantee of same-day shipping. How they managed to pull that off, I had no idea. Maybe they had a network of paid actors, patiently waiting to dress up in Halloween costumes and say a few canned lines on somebody’s doorstep? Or maybe it was like Build-a-Bear, where you got to design your own stuffed version of ghouls like Dracula and the Wolfman?

Who knows.

Whatever it was, I decided I was far too drunk to give a shit about how they made it happen. All I knew was a hundred bucks was a damn steal. I smashed the order button and it brought me to a follow-up page titled DESIGN YOUR MONSTER.

I practically licked my lips. This was the juicy bit! The website gave me a drop-down list of selectable options based on modifiable body parts. The mouth, for instance, had FANGS, BROKEN TEETH, NO MOUTH, MULTIPLE MOUTHS, and TOO MANY TEETH.

I thought the idea of too many teeth sounded ridiculous enough to be awesome, so I picked that and went down the list and selected the rest of the monster’s attributes, including its body type, its subspecies, and finally its ‘power’.

The next page said LEAVE A MESSAGE. I mulled it over for a few minutes before deciding to keep it simple. I typed 'boo' into the text field.

Once I was finished, I clicked COMPLETE and it brought me to a new screen that made me jump. It was a webcam video of me, staring shocked at my laptop. The stream was live. At the top of the page, a red text banner proclaimed PERFORM THE BLOOD SACRIFICE.

Uh, what? I cocked an eyebrow. As if in answer to my confusion, a list of instructions faded into view on the bottom of the screen.

1. UTTER THE NAME OF YOUR RECIPIENT

2. PIERCE YOUR SKIN

3. CONSUME YOUR BLOOD

I burst out laughing. This was too wild! Not only were they gonna deliver a ‘monster’ to somebody’s doorstep, but they were gonna include a goofy ritual video too.

Alright, I decided, I’m game. I went downstairs and grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and headed back up to my room. Holding my hand up with a coy grin, I pricked my thumb with the tip of the blade.

“Jared Mayhew!” I announced dramatically, stuffing my bleeding thumb into my mouth and sucking it clean. Once I’d finished, I held it up, drunk and proud, as evidence of my dark ritual complete. Seconds passed and nothing happened. Then, the screen went black and a new page appeared.

ORDER COMPLETE! DELIVERY IN PROGRESS.

I sipped my beer, wondering how Jared would react to my spooky surprise landing on his doorstep tomorrow. I really hoped they included the blood sacrifice bit. Jared and his wife, Alyssa, both hated blood, so they’d never let me live it down— and that was exactly what I wanted.

A couple of seconds later, a new screen popped up.

DELIVERY COMPLETE. STANDBY FOR RESULTS.

Already? That didn’t make any sense. How did they manage to create my order and ship it across the country, all in the span of five minutes?

A depressing realization swept over me. My drunk ass had been duped. There was no way they’d be able to ship something that quickly, so the only explanation was

A) it was a scam, or

B) it was just some lame video-mail jump-scare.

Fuck.

Now the $99 made more sense. There was no way a tiny start-up could offer same-day delivery and a compelling product for so little money. It was a pipedream logistically. Who the fuck did they think they were? Amazon?

Defeated, I decided that was enough dark web shopping for one night. Time to pack it in. I closed my laptop, brushed my teeth, and hopped into bed.

My phone vibrated.

I stared at it, wondering who would be messaging me at this hour. Jared, maybe? He was just as drunk as I was and probably high as a kite by now too. I chuckled, picking up my phone. The screen indicated one new email— from MONSTERCALL. That was odd. I’d never given them my email.

ORDER DELIVERED!

CLICK HERE TO VIEW RESULTS.

View results? I heaved a sigh. This was either a virus or some guarantee that Jared got a corny ‘spooky’ email. Still drunk, still making poor decisions, I clicked the link and it opened a video feed.

Of Jared’s house.

I sat up, my tiredness vanishing in a tidal wave of what the fuck. The video was dimly lit, and the way it bobbed up and down looked like it was being recorded off of somebody’s cell phone. Jared’s small, two-bedroom home was there in all of its suburban glory. Something about the video felt off, though. Wrong.

I told myself to relax. This was just some prank or gag. The company probably put out a call for a fraction of the money to any locals, and somebody pulled the contract. No doubt they were going to walk up the front steps, knock on his door, and then say boo and run off or some shit. It wasn’t a big deal.

So why was my heart racing?

The video neared the house, the footsteps going slowly. In the silence of the night, I heard the person behind the camera breathing. They sounded frightened. Scared. Why?

Lights went on inside the house, painting the windows in a dull, yellow glow. I squinted, seeing dark shapes darting behind the curtains.

Thoroughly confused, I decided to message Jared and ask if he got my surprise.

TERRANCE: suuup dude, you get my special delivery?? haha

JARED: HE,P

JARED: SKMWTHING

JARED: INSIDE THE HOUSE

Dark splotches splattered against the glass. A moment later, a woman’s scream rang out, and the window shattered. Two hands reached out from behind billowing curtains, gripping the side of the windowsill. Then two more gripped the top. A figure emerged, lurching out of the opening and into the yard.

It looked familiar.

Jesus Christ, it looked familiar.

It stood eight feet tall, with large bat wings flared out behind it, and four crooked, muscular arms clenching in and out of fists. The person behind the camera stumbled backward, muttering something incoherent. The creature swiveled its head toward them.

The video feed shifted. Images of the sidewalk flew up and down as the cameraman ran full-tilt from Jared’s house, heaving panicked gasps. I caught muffled fragments of prayers. Then a shriek sounded, followed by the flap of powerful wings.

The video crashed, tumbling in a blur of pixels. A man’s voice shouted for help, and then something heavy crunched, and his voice died with a wheeze. Another shriek filled the night, and a shadow appeared, gazing down toward the discarded cell phone. It had four arms, a pair of wings, and a mouth filled with rows and rows of teeth.

Too many teeth.

I lurched forward, swallowing the vomit in my throat. In one of the creature’s arms was a thirty-something man, struggling wordlessly against the monster’s might. His chest looked like it’d been caved in. The creature leaned towards him, pressed its teeth against his face, and slowly bit down. The man's legs kicked and jolted as the beast’s teeth began rotating like a blender, tearing his flesh from his skull.

It dropped him there, convulsing and dying, then beat its great wings and took off into the sky. Moments later I heard confused shouts. Footsteps pounded against the pavement. More hollers. People called for the police, other neighbors told children to get back inside.

I put my phone down, horrified. It had to have been a joke. There simply was no way that had actually happened. It couldn’t have. It was too gruesome— too violent. That was digital effects all the way. It had to be. Apps were great at that these days.

Weren’t they?

______________________

The next day I got a call from Jared’s parents. His mother tried to talk, but she couldn’t get past the tears, so she put his father, Roger, on the line. He explained that something terrible happened last night.

My breath caught in my chest.

I told myself to relax, that there was nothing to worry about. Monsters didn't exist. I knew that. “What happened?” I asked, as calmly as I could.

"Terrance," Roger said quietly. "This isn't easy to talk about, and god knows it's going to be harder to hear, but last night somebody broke into Jared’s home. Police think it was around two in the morning."

My jaw hung limp, my hand trembling as I held the phone to my ear. A terrible coincidence. That's all it was. A terrible, horrible coincidence.

"I don't know how to say this," he continued, "so I'm just going to come right out with it." Roger took a deep, shuddering breath, the kind I’d never heard a man like him take in all his life. When he spoke again his voice was as fragile as glass. "The intruder that broke in mutilated them. Jared and Alyssa."

"Mutilated?" I said in a small voice. The sound of Roger’s voice on the phone felt distant suddenly, like the world was falling away from me at a hundred miles an hour. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t. These things just didn’t happen to people.

"Yes,” Roger said. “God, Terrance. I hate to give you this news, I do. But you’ve always been Jared’s closest friend, and I didn’t want you hearing about it in the newspaper. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

He paused. “The police,” he began, pushing the words out. “They said the psychopath ate pieces of them. They say that the monster chewed their faces clean off their skulls.”

I held the phone to my chest as I vomited all over my bedroom floor. I hurled again. Then once more.

“Terrance?” Roger’s voice said from the receiver. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” I said, wiping puke from my mouth. “I mean, Jesus, no Roger. I’m so sorry. Holy shit.” My hand slipped through my hair and I gripped it painfully, praying that maybe if I just pulled hard enough, the pain would wake me from this nightmare.

“It’s—”

“The funeral preparations,” I said, guilt pooling inside of me. “I’ll handle them. I’ll handle everything. You and Charlene need to take this time to grieve for your son. It’s the—”

“There won’t be a funeral,” Roger said, voice trembling.

“What? Why not?”

A sound reached my ears, a sound I’d never heard in my life. I listened as Roger broke down sobbing. This man, this construction foreman who’d never so much as wiped a tear from his eye in the twenty years I’d known him, was crying his eyes out.

“Jared and Alyssa… they’re alive,” he said. “Hooked up to tubes in the hospital. The sick fuck left them, my baby and his wife, mangled on their living room floor. Can you believe that?” He wheezed, and I heard Jared’s mother weeping in the background. “The monster didn’t even have the humanity to put them out of their misery.”

My mouth hung limp. What was there to say to that? What words could alleviate that sort of pain? “I…”

“You need to be careful,” Roger said, and his voice evened out a little. “You’ve gotta be careful, Terrance, alright? You might not be my son, but you were over enough that I practically raised you. Pretty soon you might be all I’ve got left. The cops… Well, they told me they haven’t caught the bastard that did this. He’s still out there. So keep your doors and windows locked, you hear? And don’t let anybody inside you don’t know.”

“Wait—” I said. “They don’t have anything? No leads at all?”

“They’ve got something,” Roger said. “It’s… not much. A crumpled up note they found on Jared’s doorstep.”

“A note?” My heart thrummed.

"Yeah. But it was just one word. Practically useless."

A lump formed in my throat. “What did it say?”

“...Boo.”

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